A Flickering Light
by Aqualuna
Summary: If you live forever what happens when you see people die? Do you ever get over it? Or does it kill you also? NO SLASH!Legolas/OC pairing.My first fanfic Story better than summary.Please R&R. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A Flickering Light

Chapter 1: Hope and counsel.

"He wanted reassurance." Aragorn spun around, hand flying to where his sword usually hung to confront the owner of that clear voice. A tall woman stepped from the shadow of a tree and dropped her dark grey cloak. "Lady Ithilwen," he relaxed "What brings you to Lorien?" "You have, what else? And I have known you since you came to Imladris, Estel, I think we may safely forego formality."

For the first time Aragorn smiled. If he had had the opportunity to conjure up any being to speak to, this particular Elf would have been on the list. "Who did?" he asked in return somehow already knowing the answer. "Boromir of Gondor. Yes, he feels the lure of the Ring more strongly than any of the others, but he also fears it. He fears what you will think of him. It was all I could do to blunt it that he could sleep." Correctly understanding his stare she answered. "I made certain that he did not see me. I think he would find the resemblance to the Lady of the Wood to be too startling. But, enough of that, what keeps you awake?"

"He reminded me of the one thing I wish I could escape from." Aragorn finally admitted. "I know all too well what happened to the last king of Men, to Isildur. I don't want this, this heritage, I have never asked for it and his father will think I am his rival." He glanced over afraid she would be angry but reconsidered. Ithilwen was the least likely to moralize about trepidation of the tasks ahead. While she could be as impossibly remote as any Elf, she was also the one most understanding of mortals.

"You have never asked for it?" Ithilwen repeated sounding amused. "And I suppose Frodo begged to carry the Ring?" At the look on his face she laughed, for a moment sounding as carefree as water sparkling in the sunlight. "Estel, Estel. Do you think that that we go through our lives just doing what we _want_? You want the Kingship of Men as much as Frodo wishes to be the Ring-bearer. And as little as I envy him his task; I envy you less. He has to destroy; you have to rebuild. Aragorn, you do not want to and you are afraid to but you must unite Men and be king. There is no other way." And with that Ithilwen vanished.

Several days later Aragorn watched her from a distance as the Fellowship received gifts from the Elves. In the light of day her hair gleamed the palest gold against her blue robe. _I will be with Arwen when she needs me most. _Ithilwen's words were as clear in his head as if she had spoken aloud. _The road branches for her she has yet to choose, her father or her love. Each choice carries its own sorrow. _Looking back at her he saw her expression as though she looked at something that wasn't there. _My thanks Tirananniel _far -seer. At his side Galadriel gave Legolas a beautiful bow. He looked at her and frowned in puzzlement. Ithilwen had always been paler than most earning her the name the White Lady, but now her skin lost any colour it had possessed, and her blue eyes had hardened into cobalt. She was staring between Legolas and Galadriel. And she seemed truly appalled.


	2. Twilight

Author's Note: *1* I realized I left out that I'm following the movie more than the books (it's just easier to follow, no disrespect meant to Tolkien). If you noticed I changed my main character's name, it was done deliberately. (Thanks, Eiluj, for the info. I'm very much a novice and just clicked on the first site on Google.)I also play around with time a little. *2*Italics usually mean thoughts or mind to mind conversations (I took the liberty of making Elves telepathic.) *3* I enjoy using song lyrics, if I can remember the owner I'll mention it, but all lyrics belong to their respective owners whether I mention them by name or not. *4* The name Derynwen (Dir-een- wen) is of Welsh origin. It means roughly "white bird". (The Elven languages seem to slightly mimic Welsh)

*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LORD OF The RINGS OR ITS CHARACTERS IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM. THEY BELONG TO the TOLKIEN ESTATE, NEW LINE CINEMA ETC. I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SONG LYRICS USED; THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS. *

Thank you to whoever read and or reviewed. I love feedback. Enjoy.

Twilight

_Wizards, _Ithilwen thought with annoyance._ Here today, gone tomorrow, who knows where yesterday. And always arriving exactly when it suits them with no thought or consideration that other people are being inconvenienced to say the least._ To be fair though, this time it was not Mithrandir's fault entirely that he had kept everybody waiting. It was not as though he had chosen to die and then come back to life.

_The gift of Foresight, sometimes more curse than blessing. _She had known, _known_ Mithrandir would be back with even greater power than before, but the waiting had grated on her especially as no one entirely believed her presentiment. And then he had insisted she look in the future for him, a task that was almost impossible. Choices changed the future, nothing was set in stone. The only events she could state with absolute certainty had not made him happy either. _Boromir is dead, the Fellowship is scattered. Fangorn Forest will tip the scales of this war, but you may not interfere. Only the smallest pebbles can begin a landslide and not be harmed. Your place is in Rohan among Men._

Feeling the wind Ithilwen stopped her musings and looked up at the sky. Rain and in less than two hours or she was no judge of weather. While she was immune to cold and never minded getting wet, she hated sitting in wet clothes while they dried. _One night's rest will make no difference, and while I can still go many miles, my horse must rest._ Sighing, she paused to braid her long hair into a single plait for convenience and started looking for some sort of shelter.

She had found a shallow cave and just in time too. No sooner then she had entered than it had begun to pour heavy hard drops of stinging rain mixed with sleet. The shrieking wind, slate grey skies, and lifeless surroundings, the end of winter not yet spring, had led her to the rare decision to light a fire, for its light more than anything else. Although she had the Elf-sight and did not feel cold or even chilled, the sight of the dancing flames was slightly cheering, and the fire allowed her the opportunity to heat enough water to brew herself a hot drink made of mint. Drinking slowly as the flames died down she drew out a small about of dried berries and bread from her store of food. Normally she would have eaten the lembas she had found in her pack, but she was still too angry with Galadriel to eat what she suspected was a peace offering. Hearing hoof beats Ithilwen stood to greet her horse. Epona, like most horses disliked fire and taken the opportunity to graze freely. Ithilwen smiled as Epona butted her gently. _Rest friend, _she thought as she rubbed her dry._ Tomorrow will be a long hard day. _

Lying on the stone floor, Ithilwen sang softly to herself. It was a snippet of a song she had heard a woman sing once to her child when they were far away from home, and it seemed to fit her circumstances. _Then we go home, then we go home. Then we go home across the mountains. Then we go home, then we go home, then we go home across the mountains. _Against her will her eyes closed and she began singing again, although this time she was singing a song she had never heard and is was rough and harsh to match the vision she now saw.

_Heavy smoke parted to reveal a more desolate land than she had ever seen or heard of; heavy clouds of ash covered the sky. The only source of light seemed to be a mountain on fire. The air was hot and dry, cracking her lips and skin, and the hill she stood against were sharp jagged rocks that cut into her making her bleed. 'the skin on me is burning by the fires and on my knees I'm bleeding and it won't be long…' Her voice died in her throat. Not directly on her but over everything was a presence that watched her every move. She was trapped, trapped and she couldn't breathe. Her only hope was not to be noticed. Something was watching her and no matter how low she huddled to the ground she felt completely exposed…_

Ithilwen wrenched herself to full consciousness. _Mordor, I have seen Mordor, been there in a trance. What have we done? _It had been the right decision, only a hobbit could be so strong against the Ring's power. It was as though their almost naïve natures gave them a natural immunity. And, if Mordor was anything like her vision no Elf could survive for more than a day, but still. _He'll never survive, _she thought of Frodo,_ and even if against all hope he does he can never go back. One way or another his life ends on Mount Doom. _She had walked Middle-Earth for thousands of years; seen generations of Men born and die, seen her own kind die in battle against evil, die of grief or sail to the Undying Lands, all, leaving others behind, healed many who were wounded in body or mind, but never in all her millennia had she felt such despair as she had felt in her vision. _We have taken the easier road for too long; we have forced much on the Mortal-kind; it is only right that we depart now. We have given Men responsibility; we must now give them authority. _Looking out of the cave she noticed the rain had mostly stopped. Ithilwen frowned, considering. Whatever it was that was pulling her to Imladris, had changed. If Arwen still had need of her it was as though she needed it in another time. But the urgency she felt since leaving Lorien had not diminished if anything it had only grown stronger. It was less focused, nothing she could name clearly, but she still felt compelled to go and fast. She walked over and roused Epona, murmuring apologies. She had to get Imladris; something enormous depended on it.

More than ever Ithilwen regretted the floods that had slowed her on her journey, gullies had turned into streams, steams had turned into rivers, and flatlands into lakes or marshes, and while she could walk easily over mud the same could not be said for her horse. Poor Epona had sunk to her hocks in mud more times than she could count and she always had to be carefully dug out and soothed each time. Normally Ithilwen would not have minded or would have taken a more roundabout route, but time was of the essence here, and the shortest distance between one point and another was a straight line. Today or late this night however she intended to make up for lost time. They were on higher ground now and mercifully out of floods. The rest of the journey passed in a blur like a waking nightmare. Ride Epona until she was exhausted. Get off and run next to her. Remount. Watch out for hidden hollows or rocks on the ground. Repeat the procedure over and over. Night passed to dawn, dawn to morning, and morning to afternoon. All the while Ithilwen remembered her heated conversations with Galadriel.

_How could you do that to him? _she had demanded angrily. Others may have been intimidated by Galadriel's stare but not she. Galadriel of the Golden Wood may be the Lady of the Gahlahadrim, the Lady of Light, posses the gift of foresight and reading of hearts and the most powerful Elf in all Middle- Earth, but Ithilwen was not without a measure of gifts herself. Unlike most Elves she had passed her youth in the far north where she had remained until her people had departed. She had gone through lands devastated by the Witch-King and walked out still desiring to live. Against that Galadriel's stare was nothing, especially as she could cloak her thoughts and feelings from any unwanted scrutiny which this certainly was. And, for all that her own gifts differed from any Elf she knew, she was anyone's equal if not superior in the gift of healing.

_Shown Frodo the Mirror; what is so wrong about that?_

_Nothing in particular, I even believe it was to his benefit as he was able to see the full power of Sauron, what would happen if he failed. But it is not of Frodo that I speak of as you know full well!_

_Then it is my gift to Legolas. A bow and quiver of arrows?_

_We both know it was more than that. I have seen his face in a vision of Boromir's death, and he showed no grief, only surprise. _

_I gave him a gift of healing._

_You gifted him with a lie._

Ithilwen broke off her memories as she took in her bearings. She was within several hours ride from Imladris and with any luck could reach it shortly after nightfall. _I am sorry Epona_ she thought as she remounted, _but we will have to push hard now. I know it has been a difficult ride and I am asking much of you. Hopefully though, you can rest this night and for a time after in Lord Elrond's stables, out of the rain. _For the next few hours she pushed Epona as fast as she dared, slowing to a slow trot only when complete darkness covered the terrain for fear of stumbling into a ditch. As soon as the moon shown through the clouds she urged Epona into a fast canter then gallop reaching Imladris several hours after nightfall.

She waited impatiently for someone, anyone to admit her. "Name yourself." "Lady Ithilwen of the North" "You lie; no Elf has lived in the North for more than a millennium." "Nonetheless," Ithilwen began somewhat impatiently when she heard another more measured voice.

"Who of the North?"

"Glorofindel," she called in relief, "it's Ithilwen. Let me in!"

"It is the Swan, Linder; let her in," Glorofindel ordered.

"I am sorry My Lady Ithilwen for doubting you, but in these times..."

"I understand" Ithilwen reassured him. "And you are right; it is over a millennium since the last of my people made their home in the North." "Now" she said noticing the unusual quiet, "could you perhaps find someone to take care of my horse; it has been a difficult journey. And if you don't mind my asking why is it so quiet?"

"Lord Elrond's sons are away fighting the enemy, and the Lady Arwen has recently left to the Haven then to cross the sea."

"She left? Where is Lord Elrond?" Ithilwen demanded urgently.

"He is in his private library," Lindir answered with some trepidation. "He wishes to be left alone. My Lady!" But Ithilwen had already gone.

"What decided her to leave," Ithilwen demanded of Elrond without any preamble.

"She is my daughter," Elrond replied. "Should I have let her die?"

"That was not the question," Ithilwen replied with more heat than she had intended. He was hiding something from her, she knew it.

"I told her future. She did not wish to see Aragorn die. She would rather have kept her love for him as an evergreen memory."

"Was that all of the future you told her? Answer me!" she all but shouted.

Elrond said nothing, but she saw the answer in his face.

"You didn't tell her of the family she could have had. She made a choice based on the possible future you saw. You didn't tell her there was also joy. First Lady Galadriel's so called gift, then your deception with Arwen. Tell me Lord Elrond; when did the Eldar begin to deal with deceit and lies instead of the truth?!"

"I did not lie to her!"

"No, you did worse and told a half truth!"

"She is my daughter!" Elrond exclaimed.

"That does not lessen what you have done." And with that Ithilwen stormed from the room.

Outside, Ithilwen found herself at Aragorn's mother, Gilrean's memorial. She sighed, releasing her anger as she remembered the woman. She had spoken with her many times about her son and the hopes and dreams she had for him. Years later she was still amazed at the woman's sacrifice and selflessness. She had left her home and family at a young age to ensure the protection of her son. She had let her son go into danger to mold him into the man he would become. She gave all her hope to men and kept none for herself.

Ithilwen smiled as she looked at the statue of the woman. The sense of serenity, purpose, love and sadness that was Gilrean could be clearly seen in her sculpted face. She remembered the times she had spent here with Aragorn, or Estel as he was called then, sharing her memories of his mother. Although they were short as Elves reckoned time, they were some of the best years of her life. She wondered when anyone had been there last. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she saw a different time.

_Elrond and Aragorn stood in the same place she stood now both dressed in the garments they had worn the day the Fellowship had left. The looks on both their faces were somber. They spoke of Arwen, Elrond asking Aragorn to release her to go to Valinor, Aragorn clearly wanting what was best for Arwen while at the same time wanting her to stay with him. Then she heard Elrond speak clearly, with hints of desperation and agony in his voice. 'I will not leave my daughter here to die.'_

_I will not leave my daughter here to die._ How long was it that she had last remembered her parents she thought, looking at the finally clear skies.

"_Derynwen," her mother called, "come out your father has something to show you."_

"_I'm coming Naneth," she had called back delightedly. Although she was nearly fifty, almost full grown, she loved spending time with her parents._

"_What is it Ada?" she asked coming outside. It was Midwinter, a perfect night with clear skies, a crescent moon and crisply cold._

"_Come Ithilwen; let us see how well you know your stars."_

_She laughed and pointed to the west. "There is the Mariner, the Western Star, that we sometimes call Gil-Estel, the Star of Hope."_

"_And there?" her father said pointing._

_Ithilwen looked. Her father was pointing to the stars in a pattern of graceful bird. "That's easy Ada," she laughed "that's the swan. Those are my stars."_

" _Yes, my Derynwen," her father said embracing her. "Those are your stars."_

_Her mother's face as she and her father prepared to sail a thousand years later. "Look my Derynwen, Ithil is bright tonight. But it is not always so, sometimes it is so small you cannot see it but it is always there. It is the same with us," she continued her voice catching, "you will not see us but we will always be there. Do you understand Moon-daughter?"_

"_Yes Naneth," she had replied, tears flowing down her cheeks as well now. "You will see the moon from Valinor and I will see it from Middle-Earth, but we will both look at the same moon and we will think of each other while we do." "Good sailing Naneth, may the stars light your path."_

"_And yours my daughter," her mother replied embracing her._

Ithilwen looked up at the quarter moon wiping tears from her wet face as she remembered that parting so long ago. Looking up at the Moon she knew as clearly as if she had spoken to her exactly what her mother would have done.

"Lord Elrond," she said hesitatingly.

"Come in Ithilwen."

"My Lord I would take back my angry words from before. I have no children and cannot know how it feels to lose a child." Forgive me. I was wrong to speak so harshly,"she said bowing her head.

"But you were right. I did deceive my daughter."

"I still should not have spoken as pitilessly as I did." After a moment of silence Ithilwen looked up and said softly. "Do not worry; I will not ride after her."

She could not miss the relief on his face. "I have ordered a chamber prepared for you. Go and rest, from the look of your horse it must have been a difficult journey." 

The next morning Ithilwen walked the corridors of Imladris. After a hot bath and sleep, dressed in clean clothes she felt completely recovered from her journey and her visions. She smiled as she thought how difficult to explain to Men that while Elves never felt cold, they enjoyed the feel of hot water as much as any other race. She came to a pause at the shards of Narsil, Elendil's ancient sword. _**Renewed shall be blade that was broken.**_ The words of the prophecy echoed in her mind. Closing her eyes she saw.

_Fire melded the shards together; the sword was once again whole. And words in every script and tongue glowed in fiery letters. She could not read them all but she knew they were all the same word repeated over and over. Hope._

Opening her eyes she heard a clatter of hoof-beats, and walked over to look out the window. Arwen was back. She saw her walk up to her father and she knew. Arwen had chosen a mortal life and now she was bound to Middle-Earth until her death. An idea sprang into her mind, and she went off to find green fabric.

Later she sought out Elrond and saw he knew.

"Her hands are cold," he said dully. "The life of the Eldar is leaving her."

"I know."

"She wants me to re-forge Narsil and give it to Aragorn."

"I think you should."

"But, he has never…"

"He has changed," she replied and was surprised at the firmness of voice. "He has seen the courage of Men, their ability to renew themselves. He wears the White Tree of Gondor on his arms. He is ready. And besides…"

"Besides?"

"I saw Narsil complete in a vision engraved with words that glowed like fire. I did not know all the tongues of scripts but I knew it was all the same word".

"What was that word?"

She smiled slightly as she answered."Estel"

That night at dusk she slipped out to her favorite glade in the valley. Far away she could hear the Elf-smiths, of the Noldor at their anvil. Sitting on the ground she slipped into her trance, this time keeping her attention firmly in the present. She had never attempted such a task before but she saw no reason not to try. She sent her spirit out seeking the two who would hear her as clearly as silver bells. There, there they were. _Elladan, Elrohir, _she called. Far away the Elvish twins started._ My brothers, _she said in the High Quenya, _come to me._

_Ithilwen? _They said, seeing in their mind where she stood.

_Come to me, you are needed._

Far away she heard an echo of their voices. _We are coming._

The next day she stood outside as Elrond prepared to leave. Beneath his cloak he carried Narsil, re-forged and renamed. Anduril, Flame of the West.

"You must give it to him," she said. "He must know you trust him."

"Arwen," he replied. "She is dying."

"I know," Ithilwen replied. "That is why you must go. If you do not we are all lost." "That is why I am here," she continued. "As Aragorn will remove the guise of the Ranger, I will put aside the wanderer and become the Healer as I was meant to be. As he is meant to lead, I am meant to heal. And this time, this time I will not hide what I am."

Before Elrond had time to question her words, she spoke. "Swift journey. May the Valar guard you and the stars show your path."

"And may the stars shine on you."

And with that he turned and left to the East.


	3. Despair and Hope

_**Author's Note. Before anyone takes out a contract on me I know I'm late. For some reason this chapter was almost impossible to write, for some reason I was never happy with it, and I still think it could be done way better, so I'd really appreciate constructive reviews. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up faster. Enjoy!**_

Despair and Hope

Ithilwen looked over at Arwen hoping she had finally fallen asleep. In the time since Elrond's departure she had steadily weakened. Looking at her was like looking at a dying flame, heat and light were leaving her as she watched. She leaned over and the side of Arwen's face lightly; colder. _Not good_, she thought and went fetch another blanket. It was nothing less than she had expected, but so fast?

"Ithilwen," Arwen said softly as she wrapped another covering around her, blue eyes wide and frightened. "Do you also think I'm going to die?" Only an Elf would speak of death with such terror. The worst fears were the fears of the unknown and death was all but unknown among the Eldar.

"Do you see this?" Ithilwen asked, holding up the dress she had been making. For all that she had made it in so short a time; the long green dress with its silver embroidery was easily one of the beautiful things she had ever made.

"Yes," Arwen said clearly surprised at the question, as the two topics had nothing to do with each other.

"Then listen to me," Ithilwen said, holding Arwen's gaze firmly. "I made this dress for you. I made it for you to wear at your wedding to Estel. Here, with you, it is not a fight between you and Sauron. It is battle of hope against despair. If you hold on to hope, I truly do not think you will die. That is why I worked so hard on this dress. When you think that all is lost, look at dress and remember Estel. Remember how much you love him and how much you hope to marry him. That future is still there for you; do not despair of it. I will fight for you as hard as I can, but if you despair it is for nothing. Do you understand?"

Arwen looked up at her and found she could not look away. She had known Ithilwen all her life, but she had never seen her look as she did then. Ithilwen's eyes, a deeper, more intense blue than her own, looked like they were on fire. But it was not a fire that blazed; rather it was an incandescent flame that burned with a cool steady light. "Yes. I understand."

The flame intensified."Good."

Hoof beats. _Finally_ Ithilwen thought, as she got up. She had called Elrond's sons days ago and knowing intellectually that it was a long journey, and waiting for someone to arrive from said journey were two very different states of affairs.

"This is how matters stand," she began. Elladan and Elrohir both stood outside with her on one of the many balconies, after days inside, she needed to feel the breeze on her skin. "As I am sure you both know your sister has chosen to live a mortal life-"

"It did not come as a surprise," Elrohir interrupted. "Somewhere we always knew that no matter how much she loved her family, she would leave us to spend her life with Estel even though it would break her heart to never see her family again."

"Yes," Ithilwen agreed, "but please hear me out before you ask any more questions." "Now, normally this would not be a major difficulty. She would be as Elros, your father's brother, was and while living longer than most Men she would die as a mortal. But now matters have changed. Arwen is now like nothing I have ever seen or heard of. She is neither Elf-kind in that she can only die by injury or of grief, and she is not Mortal-kind that she dies by the passing of time. Instead her life is bound to the Ring. If it is retaken by Sauron, and he regains his power she dies. If the Ring is destroyed she will live if she can hold to life until that time. And so I have sent for you. The more she has to live for the more she will fight to hold to life. She loves you both dearly. I deem that if you would be with her constantly, and speak to her she will cling to life more fiercely, knowing the grief she would cause you should she die. I will say the same to your father when he returns."

"That is another thing I do not understand," Elrohir put in. "Where is our father? Shouldn't he be here at his daughter's side? If nothing else he is a great Healer, surely he can save her. What could have induced him to leave Arwen in your hands?"

"In answer to your first question," Ithilwen replied with a touch of impatience and anger, "he has gone to deliver Anduril, Narsil re-forged, to Aragorn as he is now called." She raised a hand to forestall another question. "Estel needs to leave the Elf aside and become Aragorn, a leader of Men. He has already accepted this, but it was imperative that your father deliver the sword to him himself. By doing so he shows that he believes Estel to worthy of the kingship of Men as his ancestor Elendil was, regardless of Isildur's failure to destroy the Ring. Elrond is the closest one he has to a father; his blessing will mean everything to him. Our only hope for victory is if Sauron's Eye is fixed elsewhere than his own land. He most definitely will pay attention to one who can unite Men under his leadership, one who can triumph against his armies. Estel receiving the Sword of Kings will seal his resolution to return to Minas Tirith and claim his birthright. And that is certainly something to keep Sauron occupied. As for your second question, even your father, powerful as he may be, cannot be in two places at once, and as I have already explained, too much depended on he, himself giving Anduril to Estel that he could remain here in Imladris. Your father is a great Healer, no one will deny that. But this is healing of another kind. Your father heals wounds of the body, reverses the affect of poisons. With Arwen it is different. It is not a wound to her body, rather an assault on her spirit, for lack of a better description. Your father is not meant for this; I am. Now go to Arwen, she needs you." And to Ithilwen's great relief, Elrohir did just that.

"You were meant for this?" Elladan said softly. In all the years of his knowing Ithilwen, whom he loved as a sister, he had never heard her speak like this. She had always been quiet and unassuming, giving counsel only when asked for, a Healer, a far- seer who rarely shared her visions, and a wanderer. Now she spoke in the firm voice of a leader, of one who knew the future and would do all she could to shape it to her own ends, of a Healer who did not doubt her abilities. Looking at her though, he also thought she looked like one caught in a frightening position between Fate and Destiny. "Ithilwen?"

"It is all true," Ithilwen replied just as softly. "You know I am called White Lady for my skin, but there is another reason for that name. My mother named me Gweniel at my birth. In the language of the Elves of the Seven Rivers, the Elves who are lost, the name Gwen has meanings other than white. It also means fair or blessed. That is the true reason for my name, but it was only known to a few. After my parents took ship I don't think anyone remained who knew the meaning behind my name. It was thought that it was simply because of my paleness, just as people call me the Swan for my grace. My mother named me Gweniel, because she knew I would live in a time of darkness when the world would need light and healing. Out of every Elf in Middle-Earth I am the only one who has any chance of saving Arwen. It is a time of testing, for Estel and for myself. We both have to face who we are."

Two days later Ithilwen sat beside Arwen holding both her hands in her own. Behind her, Elladan and Elrohir stood, barely registering in her attention. Her mind was locked on the woman in front of her. She matched Arwen, breath for breath, heart-beat for heart-beat, and finally slipped into her mind.

_It was dark; the only light came from some sort of luminescent fungi that glowed from walls she could not see. 'Arwen, where are you?'No answer but a dim light, over there. But in front of her was a Nazgul blocking her way. 'What do you think to do?' The voice was cold enough to send chills racing through her body. 'You could save even Celebrian, whom you loved like a mother. You are a failure, an eternal wanderer running away from yourself. Do you really think there is anything you can do?' The words stopped her because too many things were her fault; what made her think she could stand against Saroun and win? As suddenly as she thought that, her despair gave way to fury, he had no right to judge her, and she slammed past the Nazgul to reach out to Arwen. She was clearly dying; Ithilwen felt life leaving her. 'No, you don't.' Ithilwen whispered fiercely. 'Don't you dare.'_

'_I can't breathe'._

'_Too. Bad.'_

Back in Imladris her hands tightened around Arwen's. Arwen could not breathe? Too bad for her. She forced her own heart to beat faster, her lungs to consume more air. She was no longer matching heart- beats or breaths; her own heart drove both of theirs, her lungs took in air for them both, she pulled heat from her own body and forced it into Arwen's. _You will stay alive. _

Several feet away Elladan and Elrohir watched gaping as the day dragged on. In the dead silence of the room they heard Ithilwen's harsh, ragged gasps for air. They felt the pounding of her heart, both too fast for any full grown Elf to sustain for any long period of time. Towards the end of the day Ithilwen started to shiver, in spite of the sweat dripping off her face and body and drenching her hair. The twins glanced at each other. She had said she would keep their sister alive, but at what cost to herself?

Several hours past midnight Elladan decided to interfere. Whatever it was that Ithilwen was up to it had gone on for long enough. About to shake her, he noticed something.

"Elrohir, take a look."

Arwen was breathing somewhat more regularly than she had before, and there was a hint of colour in her face. Ithilwen seemed to notice this from wherever she was, and began to slow her heart and breathing down as she slowly released her hands.

"Cover her," Ithilwen gasped. "This was all for nothing if she is cold again."

Elrohir took a closer look at her and shook his head. Ithilwen had always been pale but now her skin had a deadly pallor and her lips were a pale blue. She was also shaking with cold; tremors shook her whole body and forced her to breathe raggedly. "What did you do?"

"Traded," Ithilwen managed to get out. "I took her weakness and gave her myself. My blood. My air. My warmth. Everything." The room was starting to spin around in dizzying circles. Someone was in the doorway. She blinked to focus her vision and realized that Elrond had returned. And that was the last thing she saw before the room spun into darkness.

She woke up to two anxious pairs of eyes. The twins, of course. She should have known. "How long," she asked. "How long was I asleep for?"

"A day and night," Elladan answered wide eyed. He could not believe that she was awake and talking coherently. "Elrohir carried you after-"he seemed to be at loss for words.

"What was that you did with Arwen?" Elrohir broke in. "I have never seen anyone do that in my entire life!"

Ithilwen sighed. "Yes you have. Your father does something similar, all Elvish Healers do. No one else continues for so long, that is all."

"But. It was like you died. You wouldn't stop shaking; I've never seen an Elf so cold!"

"No. That was just me being stubborn to the point of being irresponsible, but I was in no danger of dying. It was one Nazgul and I can go against one for longer periods of time. It's just draining. Now where are your father and sister?"

As she had expected it was Elrohir who answered. "Ada is with Arwen, but he says he cannot See Frodo anymore. What if, what if Sauron has the Ring?"

Halfway out of the doorway Ithilwen answered briskly. "If Sauron had the Ring we would know. And we would know because Arwen would be dead. Now, can you please take me to your father?" _Ironic _she thought_ we are immortal, we have all the time in world but now we have only days. How many times does the sun rise and set without us even marking the time. And now all we do is watch the Sun cross the sky and hope that we see it rise the next morning!_

Two hours later she was back by the waterfall and the pool. Arwen would be safe with her father for the time being; she and Elrond had worked out the details. He would tend to her as he would any Elf wounded by a weapon of Mordor and she would have time to prepare herself to hold Arwen to life. From the look on his face, she was sure the twins had reported her antics to him. What he did not know was that she had no need of a reprieve. If necessary, she could repeat her performance of two days ago all over. Her request had stemmed of a new understanding of how she related to her gift. She knew now what it was she needed to do. She would have failed with Arwen completely if she had not let her fury overwhelm her fear. Nothing could defeat her but herself. Herself and her memories. _All the way Ithilwen_, she commanded herself. Where did she, child of both Vanyar and Teleri, and child of none begin?

_Her first years. Born in the winter of the year of the Destruction of Numenor and the year of the arrival of Elendil and his sons. An oddity from the beginning, she was born in the winter unlike any other Elf she knew. She was born to parents who had left Valinor when the Noldor did; but who were Teleri, with her mother's mother being one of the Vanyar. She was born centuries after any of her siblings and had been the only Elf-child in her parent's realm, the only Elf realm so far north. _

_Her visions of the war raging in the East before she even had come of age. Isildur claiming the Ring, then dying without destroying it. Her feeling as though it was her fault, all the deaths, the Ring being lost. She had seen it and had not prevented it. _

_Her parents leaving a thousand years later after her sister was nearly killed by an avalanche. Becoming the leader of her rapidly dwindling people at a young age. Knowledge of an awaking of an ancient evil. Her desperate attempts to save as many of her people from the Witch-King as possible. All the ones she couldn't. The nightmare of seeing the land she loved devastated, all its inhabitants dead or in hiding._

_Hiding in a cave behind a waterfall in Ithilien with a severely wounded Man's family. Wondering if she could get any of them to safety._

_And finally, Celebrian whom she had loved as her own mother. She had known what she could do but had been too afraid to try. Afraid of failure. Afraid of herself. It was the first time she had understood the enormity of gift, and she had been terrified. She had no idea what she would become if she used it. And so she had left her to Elrond. Celebrian's subsequent departure and the grief they had all felt. She had left that night and wandered alone for years. Alone, alone, alone._

_But she had come back. Not only to Imladris but to Angmar as well. And maybe that was even more important than the fact that she had left. _

_For the first time she looked objectively at herself; what she had and had not done. And she found to her surprise that she was not as much of a failure as the Nazgul had made her feel. Because she saw possible futures did not mean she was responsible for the actions of others. She may have been a very young leader and had made many mistakes but for the most part her people had lived in peace. Most of those who had left had simply followed the Sea's call in their hearts. And when the Witch- King had come she had done everything possible for both her own people and for the Men who lived nearby. And she had come back to her home after the Witch- King had been defeated, walked over the now empty lands and left still desiring life on Middle-Earth._

_The wounded Man in Ithilien; he had recovered and he and his family had lived safely for many years._

_And finally Celebrian. She could have done things differently then, and she would never know if she would have succeeded fully. Her wrong was of not trying for fear of failure. She had been foolish. If she did not try, she would fail for certain. _

_And then she had run away. She had never been able to face the idea of herself fully accepting her gift. It was not her gift that was evil; she realized. it was what she could do with it that was evil. Just because she could read others did not mean she had to use them for her own ends. _

_She had returned to Imladris after her wanderings and had lost her terror of Healing minds as she worked alongside Elrond. It was time to take the final step and use her gift as she had always been meant to._

_She knew who she was now. She was an elleth of two different races and she had the strengths of both. She was a healer, a wanderer, and a singer; none took away from the others. She was born in a year of destruction, a year of darkness; yet there were also sparks of light in that year. Elendil and his sons had escaped and had founded new realms. And even while dying, a Queen had sung of her love for people and the Valar. She was as the Moon; sometimes full, sometimes barely in sight. She may have been born in Winter but Winter was when all rested in preparation for Spring. That was who she was; an elleth born to live in sorrow, but also to heal when the darkness lifted. She was finally ready to become Gweniel, as her mother had known all those years ago._

Ithilwen opened her eyes to the dark just before dawn. She felt calm, relaxed and, there was no other word, accepting. She had looked into herself, her worst memories, her mistakes, and in the process of doing so had lost her fear. Standing up she realized with a shock just how much time had passed. Surely she could not have been kneeling in a trance for days? Apparently, though, she had. This morning Frodo would reach Mount Doom and hold the Ring over the flames, and Estel would make his stand outside the Black Gates, in a desperate diversion. A week ago she would have been terrified. Now she was just filled with a calm sense of purpose. She was meant to be here and to save Arwen and she would use all of her gifts to do that.

Elladan and Elrohir looked up as a flutter of white crossed their vision. In Arwen's chamber everyone meaning both they and their father were dressed in dark colours. They were waiting for Arwen to die and their fear and grief were palpable in the air. Into all this Ithilwen had walked in. She wore a simple white dress, with the sleeves cut open to ensure her hands freedom of movement and her long hair was completely unbound down her back. She also looked remarkably serene considering the situation. In a single movement she was next to their father, her hand on his face forcing him to look at her. She seemed to have communicated something because to their complete and utter shock Elrond stepped back to join her sons and she took his place next to Arwen. For some time she simply stood with her head bowed and her eyes closed, but then she lifted her head. And no one in the room ever forgot what happened next.

_It was dark and cold. Far ahead of her she could see the dying light that was Arwen, fading a little more every moment. Watchers lined every path waiting to pounce on any small speck of light. And there was a mistake of Sauron. Ithilwen had lived in a land that could also be cold and dark; they held no terror for her, she had no need to make any light. Undetected by anything she sped past the watchers, her entire being focused on Arwen's soul. _ _If she could reach Arwen; she could bring her back. It was that simple. All she had to do was slip past Sauron. There, a shadow, that had to be Sauron, As a Maia, Sauron would know that some light was needed to create a shadow in the first place, thereby allowing him to see all who came down this path. He had no idea she could see him too and that he had given her time to prepare to face him. 'Move', Ithilwen said approaching the Shadow, 'you are in my way'. She felt Sauron's shock that she had come up to him; he had never seen anything like her before. Standing calmly in a small pool of her own light, she waited. She heard his threats, he would make her relive all her worst memories, all her fears, he would force her to face herself. And that was Sauron's second mistake. Ithilwen could not help herself; she laughed in spite of the gravity of the situation. She had already done that and she was no longer afraid. If Sauron had been shocked before, now he was utterly bewildered. In all his realm no one had ever laughed, and certainly not like this strange elleth, who responded to his threats like a bird responded to air. His moment of amazement gave Ithilwen the moment she needed. She slipped past Sauron and caught up to Arwen._

'_Arwen,' she called, her voice commanding, 'Arwen Undomiel, sometimes called Evenstar come back with me'._

'_No' Arwen answered sadly.' I can't. It's too dark, I can't see anything and I don't what I am going back for!'_

_This was exactly what Ithilwen had been afraid of. Somewhere in this shadowy place Sauron had managed to influence Arwen's thoughts. She had come to believe all hope was lost and she had nothing to go back to._

'_For Estel, perhaps?' Ithilwen suggested. The words took affect but not as much as she needed. Somewhere there was a furious battle going on, but it had nothing to do with her. Softly at first she began to sing. _

_For the beauty of the earth,_

_For the beauty of the skies._

_For the love_

_which from our birth _

_over and around us lies. _

_As she sang Ithilwen started to glow then shine. The light she shed easily banished any shadow in Arwen's soul and showed her the way back. Arwen began to follow her and she continued to sing._

_For the joy of love_

_Brother, sister, parent, child._

_Friends on earth_

_and friends above. _

_For gentle thoughts_

_And smiles._

Back in Arwen's chamber her father and brothers stared. Ithilwen was changing in front of them. When she had first lifted her head she could have been any Elf with her barely perceptible shimmer. Then she began to shine brighter and brighter. Although she had not opened her mouth they heard her voice humming in their ears. As the light she was giving off increased they heard the melody more clearly. The unearthly light was like nothing they had ever seen. They could look at her without being blinded, but she herself had all but disappeared. They could see everything clearly but Ithilwen, she had become light itself. Finally when it seemed as though the Two Trees themselves were standing in the room in full flower they heard the words she was singing.

For the beauty of the hour

Of the day and of the night

Hill and vale

and tree and flower

Sun and moon and stars of light.

_Ithilwen sang the last words, Stars of light, and could not help laughing for sheer joy. She had chosen this song to rekindle Arwen's will to live, and had turned out to be more appropriate than she had realized. Although her attention was completely on Arwen she had felt the success of the Quest. Sauron was defeated and Arwen would live. _

Ithilwen opened her eyes, took a step back, and gestured for Elrond to come closer. As she did so, Arwen sat up and reached for her father. Ithilwen turned away; some moments were too private to share. And found herself looking into Elladan, and Elrohir's, amazed faces. "Gweniel" they whispered together. And at that she became aware of the fact of the amount of light she was giving off. She smiled, closed her eyes, and the light dimmed. The twins looked at her with undisguised relief until they realized. Her light had not vanished. It had simply hidden inside her.

_**A/N The song Ithilwen sings is one of many variations of a hymn called "For the Beauty of the Earth". I don't know the original owner.**_

_**elleth- elf, female (basically like saying a woman in English) **_


	4. Endings and Beginings

Endings and Beginnings

"You'll have good weather tomorrow," Ithilwen remarked to Arwen as she studied the sky. It was just after full dark and they were staying with the other Elves who had come to Minas Tirith to attend Aragorn's coronation.

"I still don't know how you pulled this off." Arwen muttered, referring to the fact that no one, outside their party, knew she was there. At lthilwen's raised eyebrows, she continued. "I know you were able to call me back to life, though I do not remember very much of anything. But how could you possibly ensure that no one knows that I am here?"

"Simple. First your father requested that your presence remain a secret and all the Elves were glad to comply. The next part is even easier. I asked your brothers to help out. They should be back here any minute so we can know how to work things out tomorrow." As if on cue there was a double knock on the door, and Elladan and Elrohir burst in.

"We're cleared for tomorrow!"they exclaimed. "All we need is to make you invisible-"

"-just this once I wish we had not destroyed the Ring-"

"-because we don't want you to be seen-"

"-and that is only infallible way that I know of -"

"-it will just be more of a surprise-"

"- and I have never heard of anyone being able to walk completely unseen in full –"

"- since he's really not expecting you at all-"

"-although that still leaves the problem of you being _there_-

"- and Ada once said he would not have you give up your immortality for anyone less than the King of Gondor-"

"-because it is not as though just because you cannot be seen you cannot be felt-"

"-so we want him crowned first-"

"-not to mention that we have to get through an entire crowd-"

"-and if he sees you we might disrupt the coronation-"

"- who will stare because they have not seen Elves in many lifetimes-"

"- that is the opposite of what we want-"

Ithilwen and Arwen traded amused looks. It was hardly the first time that the twins had spoken two separate conversations at the same time, and expected their listeners to somehow understand both. She supposed that in their minds it saved time; rather than have two conversations one after another, they had two conversations at the same time. What never sunk in, no matter how many times it reiterated, was that it was confusing to those unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end. Although, if one had been forced to listen to them one too many times, one did manage to get the gist of the conversations. Sometimes.

"All right!" Ithilwen decided it had gone on long enough. They would be up all night at this rate. "In summary, the problem is that although no one knows Arwen is here _now_, someone is sure to notice her tomorrow. Correct?" Mercifully, the twins just nodded, not opening their mouths. "Although," Ithilwen continued speaking more to herself than to anyone in particular, "how will anyone know who Arwen is? After all it is not as though anyone here has seen her so…"her voice trailed off as her eyes lit up.

"What?" predictably, both twins asked at the same time.

"You left something out," she responded simply "_no one_ knows what Arwen looks like, so no one will know who she is. It is as good as being invisible. People will see her but they won't see _her, _they'll see another elf in the elven delegation. It's like a forest," she continued blithely, "unless you're looking for one particular tree, your eyes would pass right on over it. It would be just another tree in a forest."

There was a small silence as everyone thought over the implications of what she had just said, looking for anything that may have been overlooked. Elladan found one.

"But Estel certainly does know what she looks like."

"Then I will make sure that he does not see me." Arwen answered confidently. "I have a banner I made for him, I'll hold it in front of me, and he will not be able to see my face."

There was another silence. "It could work," Elladan finally concluded. "We can arrange for her to go in the middle of the group and no will ever know. Ithilwen's right, to most she's just another elf. We'll go and tell everyone else."

The next night Ithilwen stood on the outer walls of sixth circle of Minas Tirith, still wearing the dress she had worn for the coronation and surprise wedding. Well, strictly speaking it wasn't her dress; she had borrowed someone else's. She laughed quietly as she remembered Arwen's and well, everyone else's horror that she had not prepared anything special to wear to the occasion. To her it was more important that she go than what she wore, but no one else shared her sentiments. Oh well.

Looking up she could see the White Tree, now in full blossom. As she watched she saw several petals drift off in the breeze and disappear into the night. _How many years of Men have the people of this city hoped to see just this? _To her, trees were hopeful things, especially for Men. Their leaves withered and died each winter, but the tree flowered again in the spring. 'A new earth across a wide ocean…'

"What's she saying?" a voice that tried to be quiet asked. "I've never heard any-" Turning she could see no one, _that's odd_, until she dropped her gaze. _A perian._ Who was promptly joined by three more of its own, a dwarf, and an elf.

"Which of the famous perian are you?" she asked, Not Frodo, he had all his fingers. She caught the puzzled look. "Halfling. Perian means Halfling in the Westron, or," she followed a memory "hobbit."

"How do you know we call ourselves hobbits?" They looked simply delighted. "No one else knew that!"

"I walked through your land once recently, and I overheard the perian speaking." Before any of them demanded why they had not seen her, she realized her mistake. "This was most likely before any of you were born. The year after the Battle of the Five Armies, and when the Wise drove Sauron out of southern Mirkwood, I took a trip to see the land of the perian. I was living in Imladris then, and I was curious as to what manner of people what astonish Lord Elrond so much when he was told that one was accompanying a band of dwarves on such a quest. I also went at his request to ensure that tales of a young Man child were _not_ being told at every dwelling. Mithrandir had promised that there would be no mention made of Estel but that did not stop anyone from worrying. It was too important that as few as possible knew-Yes?" she inquired of four curious faces.

"Where's Imladris?"

"Who's Estel?"

"Why shouldn't a hobbit go on a quest with dwarves?"

"Who are you, Lady?" the last from the elf.

"Well, no one said a hobbit should not go on a quest with Dwarves. It was just a matter that no hobbit ever had gone on a quest of any kind." This was going to be a little tricky. " It was surprising. Imladris is Rivendell to most and Estel is Aragorn. I thought you knew he grew up in Imla- Rivendell," she corrected herself. "As for my name, it is usually for the host to perform introductions, Legolas Thranuillion."

The prince of Mirkwood had the good grace to look abashed. "My apologies, but as you already know my name, may I ask yours?"

"Ithilwen Elentinu"

She saw a flash of recognition. "The White Lady." He turned and introduced his companions in turn. The dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin. The four perian: Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, (called Sam), Meriadoc Brandybuck,(called Merry), and finally the smallest, Peregrin Took (called Pippin) the one who had asked what she was singing to start with, and who looked as though a dozen more questions he simply could not wait to ask. "And this," he finished, "is Lady Ithilwen of the North, who often acts as envoy from one elf lord to another and is called the White Lady."

"Why are you called the White Lady? And why are you glowing?" It was the one called Pippin.

"People call me that because compared to most elves I'm very pale, with very light coloured hair. It's unusual in a High Elf, most have dark hair. And all elves glow at least a little; I just have a little more light. You don't really notice it during the day," she added helpfully. Once she too had glowed with just that pale shimmer typical of all elves. Since saving Arwen however, she had changed. Now every strand of her hair radiated its own light, and overall she the light she shed was strong enough to see. _Gweniel_. She had finally accepted her name and there was no going back, even if she was not ready to use it just yet.

"Do you-"

"Pippin!"

She looked at the hobbit again. Maybe it would be easier to just tell them about herself, rather than answering all his questions one after another. She felt Legolas's eyes on her and looked up at him. "I think I can answer the rest on my own," she said politely. _Go away; this will be awkward enough as it is. Stop looking at me like you've never seen me before. You don't know the first thing about me._

"Then I will leave you to their merciless questions." The voice was too lighthearted for someone who had recently been through a war.

_Oh Galadriel. What have you done?_

_**A/N This is the last chapter that takes place in the movies or the books not counting the appendices. If you're still reading, please leave a review. It's a little depressing when you work really hard and you only have two reviews. Thanks **_


	5. The Winter Wind's Cries

*DISCLAMER: THE TWO SONGS ITHILWEN SINGS ARE FROM ENYA; ONLY TIME AND ATHAIR A NEAMH. I DO NOT OWN EITHER ONE OF THEM. THE LYRICS TO ATHAIR A NEAMH ARE IN GAELIC IN CASE ANYONE'S INTERESTED*

The Winter Wind's Cries 

It had been an eventful few years. Aragorn had become used to being in the public eye as king of Gondor, instead of keeping a low profile as a leader of the rangers, an heir in hiding. One of the few things he still insisted on was to eat alone with his family in the evenings except for necessary state dinners. On this particular night he had included Eomer King of Rohirrim and his wife Lothiriel, on a visit from Rohan. Since he and Eomer had fought side by side during the War of the Ring, Aragorn considered this a visit of friends. So it was no surprise that when a rather breathless messenger announced that there was a woman outside demanding to see him _now_ he was not entirely thrilled to say the very least.

"Can this not wait for tomorrow?" he asked irritated. This was about the only time he had to himself and his family.

"She," the messenger quavered, sounding uneasy, "she she's iridescent. I could see her but she's radiating this light of her own."

Aragorn started at this. "Did she give a name?"

"Yes. She said you know her by the name Ithilwen but she has now accepted the name Gweniel."

"Send her in."

"Yes, my lord king," the messenger sounded relived although he wondered who this strange woman could possibly be.

"Arwen," Aragon called. "Arwen, we have a guest. Ithilwen's here!"

Not an hour later Ithilwen found herself seated at a table that included Arwen and Aragorn, King and Queen of Gondor and their guests for the evening, Eomer, King of the Rohirrim, and his wife Queen Lothiriel, once of Dol Amroth. Once again Ithilwen found herself dressed in borrowed clothing as she had arrived in a tunic, longer than the ones worn by men, leggings, and a waterproof cloak. In this case it was one of Arwen's, and she had to admit that the midnight blue velvet looked beautiful on her, a contrast to her pale coulouring. She would have preferred a lighter fabric, but it would look odd if she wore a lightweight dress on a cold night to those unaccustomed to elves and their imperviousness to cold or heat. As it was with the introductions over every Mortal in the room was starring at her. Fortunately Arwen noticed her predicament, having been in the same one several times herself.

"There is no need to worry, Ithilwen," Arwen remarked as she noticed Ithilwen picking neatly through her food. "Swan is not on the menu tonight."

"You do not eat swans, my lady?" Eomer asked curiously. He had never heard of anyone abstaining from any form of food even among elves.

"No more than you eat horses, Eorling," Ithilwen responded, grateful for a topic of conversation. "The alph, swan, is the symbol of my clan as the horse is the symbol of yours."

"Your clan?"

She had opened herself to that. Why was it that Men thought that all Elves were the same? They certainly did not think the same of themselves. How best to put it? "My family is from the Teleri people, the last to come to Valinor in the Elder Days before the Sun and Moon shone. The swan is often used as a motif in Teleri handwork. Among the Elves if you would see a swan as an embalm, it would most likely be of the Teleri or perhaps of the Sindar people." "The Teleri and the Sindar used to be one people, the Lindar," she added as an afterthought. "The Sindar are the Grey Elves, the ones left behind on these shores, and the Teleri are those who live in Valinor."

Arwen came to her rescue again. "Eomer, Lothiriel," she said lightly, "you have just had the misfortune to speak to an elf who has forgotten that she is in the presence of Men. If you wish I could obtain a history of the elves for you that would be more comprehensible than one elf woman recounting her family's story. Most chroniclers remember that time is different for Men than for Elves, for whom one year is more than one hundred of ours."

"It is true," Ithilwen said with a smile. "We come of age at fifty as a rule, but I did not reach my full height until my first century. Few Men today even live to see a hundred years come and go."

Aragorn decided that it was time that the conversation took another turn. There was a reason why elves and men did not mix. An Elf might say that he had been somewhere recently and mean that sometime in the past century or so while for a Man _recently_ meant in the past two or three _years_. Casting around for a safe topic of conversation he decided to ask Eomer about how he had adjusted to becoming King at a young age. Too late he realized his mistake.

"Do you have good advisors?" Ithilwen asked "It can be easier if you have people that you trust not only for their advice but that also respect you and your decisions. It can very difficult especially if they are all older than you."

Lothiriel looked at her with interest. "You have had the same experience?"

"Somewhat the same," Ithilwen answered. "I was only a little over a thousand years old," at Eomer's and Lothiriel's faces she explained, "About twelve or a little older as you would think it. Like I said I was definitely very young."

"But why then?" Eomer asked. "Was there no one else? If you were that young…"

"There was no one else,' Ithilwen stated flatly. "My sister had nearly died in an avalanche. She sailed and my parents sailed with her. They were afraid to lose her after she had just nearly died. My brother died in the first War of the Ring and his family sailed immediately after. My oldest brother and his family sailed before I was born. I never even met him. So there was no one else. I was from the royal house and my parents believed that I could be a leader. So I became the Aranel, Princess, because I never felt completely comfortable with the title Queen. I think the only way I managed my first few decades was the knowledge that parents had left their people in my charge and my terror of letting them down. Somehow though I think you will have an easier time than I did."

"Oh?"

"It is not a very enjoyable tale." Anyone who knew her at all would have stopped right then and there, but not the King of Rohan.

"What happened?"

_Estel, I will kill you._

"We had peace for some time," Ithilwen started. _Too short, much to short._ "I grew up as a member of the ruling family so I had a good idea how things should be run. Most of my advisors had been friends with my parents so I already knew them. It was a little sad though because every year more and more left for the Havens, so every year there were fewer of us. Then the Witch King rose in Angmar. We all had to leave then. Not just the Elves, but also the men of the Northern Kingdom. Many died in battle and more died on the road. The Witch King devastated the land. There are no elves there anymore. They all sailed. I am the only one who stayed."

"What did you do?" Lothiriel this time.

"I stayed mostly in Imla- Rivendell. Lord Elrond taught me much of healing. Later I stayed in almost Elf-realm and I acted as an envoy very often. My time as Aranel meant I knew a lot about diplomacy. It was not all bad. Part of my nature is to wander anyway." And with that Eomer finally got the message that this was not something she wanted to speak about.

Lothiriel spoke into the decidedly strained atmosphere. "So what are we to call you then?"

"Well you cannot be a princess if you have no people, so I never use the title Aranel except for the most formal situations. 'Lady' seems to satisfy most people as far as formalities go. As for my name… well my parents named me Ithilwen for the Moon, but my mother gave me the name Gweniel, and I think that that's the name I'll be using."

The rest of the evening passed with meaningless small talk. Ithilwen was content to remain silent for the most part. She really did not know Rohan or anyone in it well enough to comment about it, and she did not think either Estel or Arwen would be very pleased if she mentioned any of their childhood antics. So the meal wound down with the guests leaving to their chambers, leaving Ithilwen alone with Arwen and Aragorn.

"Why did you want me here?" Ithilwen said skipping all introductions.

Aragorn and Arwen both looked at each other; clearly neither one wanted to initiate their predicament.

"Estel?"

"Was it really that bad in Angmar?"

She saw the bid for distraction for what it was but decided to answer anyway. "No it was worse."

"You have seen the effects of the Nazgul and their poisoned blades, you have traveled while evading them, and you have had injured companions with you; but you have never done all three at one time over and over again. You took that road from Bree to Imladris with four perian; I went from Angmar to Imladris with hundreds of people. It was freezing, we were running away from an army, and we had no food. It was dangerous to stop; people would have died in their sleep of cold. I had everyone, Elves and Men. A few were warriors; most were not. The first trip I made was in a way the easiest; it was all refugees but they were mostly healthy. Even so many died. When I first arrived at Imladris, I demanded and received sanctuary for all those with me. I slept there for one night and started back to Angmar the next morning. Every time it was more difficult. I took the injured soldiers. We had to avoid being seen which meant we traveled mostly by night, and Men do not have the elf-sight. Elves do not feel the cold, but injured Elves especially those wounded by a poisoned weapon do. We could not light a fire for fear of being seen. Eventually not a week passed when we did not stop to bury someone, which was a long and therefore dangerous process because the ground was frozen. And the power of the Witch King filled the air until he was routed, and no one wanted to live. I would go for days without sleep so I could stop by everyone and give them a touch of energy. Even when I had got everyone out of Angmar that I possibly could it was not over. Elrond had a dearth of healers at that time, so I healed and received instruction at the same time. We saved a lot of people but we couldn't get to everyone. I would have nightmares for months afterwards of people calling for help and of being unable to reach them. I took me ten years until I walked back into the North to see where I had lived and so many had died. Even longer to fully make my peace with that time. The only reason that I can relate to it so calmly now is that before I healed Arwen I spent days in a trance and I learned to face and even to forgive myself. Now why did you call me here? It was not to hear of my past. Well Estel?"

Aragorn finally looked at her, "It is about Legolas."

"Then why call me? Call his father. I am sure Thranduill can spare the time for his youngest child."

"I think he would rather his father not know."

"And he would rather you know? Somehow I find that difficult to believe."

"He does not think I know, he does not even admit something is wrong!"

"So Elrond's envoy should appear from nowhere and treat Thranduill's son from a non existing ailment? Oh this will be really well received. I do not even know what I am here for. Tell me or I will walk out and you will not hear from me again in years."

Her threat worked. Aragorn finally answered her.

"He's, he's just strange. He jumps at the smallest sound, he looks off into nowhere and jerks out of it, you startle him, his hand goes to his scabbard. I know elves don't sleep like ordinary people but I don't think he sleeps at all. And when he does he sleeps in bits and pieces. It is like he is afraid to sleep. I never saw anything like it before. "

Ithilwen skin had drained of any colour and her eyes had darkened, two signs that she was absolutely beyond fury.

"I will kill her." The words were soft but intent. Aragorn looked at the marble statue with cobalt eyes, and remembered the last time he had seen her like that. _Lothlorien, _the word whispered into his mind. He looked at her questioningly.

"This," Ithilwen said in a voice dripping with scorn, "was Galadriel's gift. She saw he was shocked by Mithrandir's death and she took the shock out of it. He could see an entire army killed in front of him and feel nothing. You have seen this before Estel, you have seen it in anyone whose life was haunted by a disaster but you never saw it like this. For Legolas it is a thousand times stronger because only now does he feel what he has seen and he sees it over and over again. Galadriel took away the sting and now it is the same loss compounded along with every other person who had died since then. "

"Can you do anything?" It was Arwen this time. Arwen, who knew her abilities better than anyone.

"It will not be easy, it will be anything but, but yes I can." _And I am the only one left who can in any event_. _So, how to get into Ithilien without Legolas suspecting anything? The only way..._

"I hear that Legolas has created an elf realm in Ithilien." She said slowly, a plan forming in her mind.

"What of it?" Aragorn asked. "You still cannot just walk in with no explanation."

"But I have one." Her voice was all innocence, a sure sign she was up to some mischief.

"Ithilwen." Aragorn sounded apprehensive; this was the tone she had taken when she had convinced him that shelling walnuts was a good way to toughen his skin. His hands had been stained for weeks.

"What? They need a healer, no? Who better than one trained by Elrond himself? All you have to do is say that as High King of Gondor you thought is wise that there be an experienced healer in Ithilien, one who can train others. It's perfectly plausible."

"That would work out well." Arwen sounded thoughtful. "Eowyn always wanted to learn more of the healing arts and she would welcome a teacher. And she would welcome any help at this time." Catching Ithilwen's quizzical look she explained, "She and Faramir are expecting their first child. Thinking about it Faramir could use your soul-healing as well. "

"Perfect. When do I leave?" "I did bring _appropriate_ clothing this time," Ithilwen put in with a laugh.

"So that's what my brothers brought with them last time they visited. I wondered what all the extra baggage was. Why bring so much though?"

Ithilwen gazed solemnly at Arwen. "Because that is everything I have. I am not going anywhere else. This is where I will stay for the rest of my time in Arda. I have spent the last two years saying farewell to my old home. I will never go back." The words were spoken with utter finality.

It was on the tip of Arwen's tongue to ask why but she did not. She had spoken as a Tirananiel, a far-seer not as the ellleth Arwen knew. Arwen felt the truth of her words. Ithilwen would never go back.

"You can leave tomorrow. " Aragorn said. "I have messages to Faramir in any case you can deliver them as easily as anyone else. I'll put in a missive to both Faramir and Legolas about your alleged purpose there. I trust you are resourceful enough to work out where you are going to live."

"And Ithilwen," both Arwen and Ithilwen looked up. "Thank you for coming."

"_Undomiel", _Ithilwen asked in Arwen's mind. "_Are you happy with Estel?" _

"_Yes; why?"_

"_Nothing, I envy you your happiness and wish you well, I just wish I could find the same joy as you have."_

Before Arwen could answer Ithilwen had already left.

Ithilien-One week later.

Legolas woke from another dream. This time is was Helms Deep. Men and Elves were piled everywhere, he could not move without stepping on one of the bodies. Arrows whizzed past him. Each one came closer and closer. The last one flew straight at him. He bit back a scream and jerked awake. His chambers were too dark and closed in. He needed air. Stepping outside, he took a deep breath of the cold air. He did not know what had happened to him in the past months. Any noise sent him flying for his weapon. He was exhausted and at the same time could not sleep, and when he did it was only to wake to nightmares each one worst than the last. The music he loved had left his mind. In its place were the screams of the wounded, the gasps of the dying. He started as he heard a voice singing, but then forced himself to relax. The singer was an elf, surely she meant no harm. And he heard music again.

_Who can say where the road goes _

_Where the day flows, only time_

_And who can say if your love grows_

_As your heart chose, only time_

_Who can say where the roads meet_

_That love might be in your heart_

_And who can say when the day sleeps_

_If the night keeps all your heart _

_Night keeps all your heart_

_Who can say if your love grows_

_As your heart chose_

_Only time_

_And who can say where the road goes _

_Where the day flows, only time_

_Who knows? Only time._

The singer came into view. It was the new healer Aragorn had sent. Ithilwen, who was now called Gweniel. He had met her only briefly when she had been formally introduced. Since then he had barely seen her. Unlike when she had come as an envoy to his father from various elven lords, she was not dressed in the formal styles of the Noldor, but what he imagined she had worn in her own realm, softer and more flowing, the fabric seeming to float in the breeze. And she was shimmering like no elf he had ever seen.

"I am sorry."Even her voice was different from any elf he had ever heard, more liquid and musical. "Did I disturb you?"

"No, not at all." _I just came outside to escape from a nightmare, who knew anyone else would even be awake. And why was she awake at such an hour?_ "What brings you outside so late? I thought all were sleeping. _Which is why I felt it was safe to go outside; I want no one to know of this._

"I like to watch the stars," she answered, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. "Especially in the winter, I always feel like the skies are clearer. Would you like to join me?"

_Why not,_ Legolas thought bleakly. _I have no desire to go back to sleep, truth be told I am afraid to._

"Elentinu," he said as he sat down beside her on the grass. "Daughter of a star. You truly live up to your name. Do you do this often?"

"As often as possible. When I was an elfling I would do this with my parents. And now, when I have no pressing duties the next morning I like to watch the stars move across the night sky. I think that of all the gifts of the Valar, Elbereth's stars are the most beautiful. I never tire of looking at them."

"Do we have to talk?" Legolas was devoutly hoping the answer was no. For the first time in a long time he felt relaxed. His only problem would be if he fell asleep.

"Of course not. I think silence can be as restful as talking if not more so. I usually gaze at the sky alone anyway."

The next few hours passed in silence. Gweniel had been right; the silence was more peaceful then endless chatter. He found he could hear noises he had been too tense to notice before, the sigh of wind, the slow whisper of water in the stream bed, the tree branches softly swaying back and forth. Twice his eyes nearly closed and he forced them open in a panic. He was terrified not only of his dreams but of waking up screaming. Unfortunately for him he could not fight the exhaustion that had plagued him ever since he had been unable to sleep without dreaming of battles and death. Just as Legolas's eyes closed against his will he heard Gweniel begin to sing again. Her voice was soft but clear and somehow he felt safe as though her song was proof against nightmares.

_Athair ar neamh, Dia linn_

_Athair ar neamh, Dia liom_

_M'anam mo chroi, mo ghloir_

_Moladh duit a Dhia_

_Fada a la, go samh_

_Fada an oiche, gan gruaim_

_Aoibhneas, athas, gra_

_Moladh duit a Dhia_

_Moraim thu, o la go la_

_Moraim thu, o oiche go oichie_

_Athair ar neamh, Dia linn_

_Athair ar neamh, Dia liom_

_An ghealach, an ghriain, an ghaoth_

_Moladh duit a Dhia_

"Legolas, Legolas Thranduilion we have to leave."

Unwillingly Legolas opened his eyes. To his complete and utter shock it was almost morning. Where had the night gone?

"Come!" Gweniel said somewhat impatiently. "I don't think you want everyone knowing you spent the night with me."

She was right of course, he thought as he got up to leave. It would not do for them to seen in such an intimate situation without them even being betrothed.

"That was the beautiful song I have ever heard," he said sincerely. "What was it?'

Gweniel hesitated. "A song to Iluvatar. My mother learned it from her mother in Aman. It is often sung among the Vanyar."

A song from Aman, that would explain its beauty.

The sunlight touched her hair making it shine like pale gold. "I'll see you around," she said with a smile. And with that she was gone.

A/N-About the names. Where my family comes from your name is in some mystical way who you are. So if you change your name you're reflecting a different part of yourself. So Ithilwen's changed to Gweniel and that's going to her name from now on. Questions, Comments? Click the green button and make my day.


	6. The World Spins

A/N 1) So, I was all ready to write my next chapter when: realization a. I needed an entire chapter to get across what I initially thought I could do in a few paragraphs (about 3,000 extra words) and realization b. Middle-Earth has no modern medication so Gweniel would be using plants (because athelas can't be the only medicinal herb around) and realization c. **I **didn't know the first thing about medicinal plants. The result of all this was I requested a book from the library that took a week to come in so I could research medical uses for plants. That said 2) These are real plants/herbs/ holistic remedies for the most part, (I made up a few names, but they mimic actual plants.)so DO NOT TRY THIS ON YOUR OWN!!(Yes it's stupid, but some take-outs need to put a warning label on hot drinks saying 'this is hot, be careful' so I thought I should put in the warning.) 3) I am so sorry for taking so long to update. Hopefully it won't happen again.

The World Spins

One month after her arrival in Ithilien Gweniel looked around the room she had been allotted. It was slightly smaller than she would have liked, but one could not have everything, and the room had many windows to let in light and air. Hopefully though, she would not have many patients in her infirmary, and if worst came to worst there were plenty of other rooms she could use. In the meantime though she planned to use this room mostly as a workroom, where she could prepare her healing mixtures, although being winter there was precious little to work with. There were some of the dried plants and oils that she had brought with her from Imladris that should see her through the winter and the tools of her trade; sharp knives of assorted sizes, whetstones, scissors, needles, silk threads, soft fabrics and the like.

Outside it was raining, a cold steady rain. She blinked as she saw a figure walking back and forth outside. Late winter storms were not exactly prime weather to take a walk in unless… she caught sight of the walker's face as he turned._ Legolas_

"Are you expecting someone?" Legolas turned again to find himself face to face with Gweniel, _strange _he thought_, you can see her glow even in daylight._ "Yes. I'm waiting for my father. I think he wants to check up on me. What are you doing here?"

_Making sure you're alright. _"Ah getting soaked," she came up with somewhat inanely. "I mean I was curious as to what would bring anybody outside in this weather and I ended up getting drenched. Is your father coming soon?" she asked trying to change the topic. "Because if he's not you might as well go back inside. I don't think he'll be particularly happy to find you out you waited outside all day in the rain. And if he's not happy no one here will be." she added referring to Thranduil's legendary temper.

"No, they won't be," Legolas answered almost to himself, imagining what would happen if his father found him pacing outside by himself in the pouring rain. He didn't think he would be able to explain why anyway. For some reason inside today all he could think about was his journey with Estel along the Paths of the Dead. Next to him Gweniel began to slowly chant words that eerily mimicked his thoughts.

"They pluck at me, in my dark mind

like burning rain their voices fall,

and who can count their legion ranks

or name them all?"

She caught his inquiring look. "I used to live in the North until the North Kingdom was overcome. Then instead of fighting when the Witch-King came, I took as many as I could to Imladris. One of my later trips was in weather like this, cold pouring rain. One of the them was a wounded soldier. He was dying of blood poisoning and he kept saying this chant over and over. He swore he could see everyone he had ever known who was dead coming for him. It was his own delirium, but it was easy enough for the rest to imagine the sight. When he died I felt this guilty relief. I didn't want him dead, but everyone else was going insane from that chant, and we still had a long way to go." She laughed bitterly. "After every trip I swore I would never repeat it. I would never open myself to such hurt again. And I always went back, if not to Angmar than to somewhere else. Everywhere but across the Sea."

"Why?"

"I asked myself the same question every time I found myself at the Havens on some mission. I just never felt the time was right I guess. Something always held me back. Something I could never understand. It was like I heard a voice say 'stay' but I never knew if it was in front of or behind me." She caught herself. Why in all of Arda had she let that slip? She had never told that to anyone, certainly not someone she barely knew in the middle of a rainstorm. "You said your father will be here soon?"

"Yes," Legolas answered, going along with the abrupt conversation change. "Will you join us tonight?"

Gweniel moaned silently; she hated formal state dinners. Although this was Thranduil and one never knew how interesting things could get. "Of course," she said effortlessly. "I probably should change though," pulling at her soaked dress.

"You look fine the way you are," Legolas said.

"Thank you, but my clothing and hair are both wringing wet and I hardly-"her voice trailed off as Legolas stepped closer and reached out his hand towards her hair. She jumped slightly as he ran his fingers through the loose strands, "think that your father would appreciate me greeting him like this. Again," she finished in a rush.

"Again?" Legolas looked at her questionably.

"Why don't you ask him about it? It's an interesting story, and I don't think you have heard it before." _Of course he hadn't, _she thought frantically. _He wouldn't have asked if he knew. _"Ah, could you please let go of my hair. I need to dry off." _Please _She took a step back, smiled and almost ran back inside.

Outside, Legolas stared at her swiftly retreating figure. He could not imagine what he had done to frighten her so. It had been forward of him to touch her hair, but he had not been able to help himself. Even wet her hair had been glowing. Speaking of wet… he went in to dry off also. As Gweniel had pointed out, father would not be happy to find him standing out in the rain.

Back in her room Gweniel paced back and forth. She did not know what to make of her latest encounter. She wished she said 'no' but she couldn't back out. For the first time she wished she had brought her formal robes with her. She looked frantically through what she _had_ brought. Most of it was dresses such as the Wood Elves wore, without the long trailing sleeves, some were softer, more feminine, but she had very few that were appropriate for a state dinner, and most of the ones she did have were soft colours. Finally she decided on her only dark dress, a midnight blue. It was the most restrained gown she had although unfortunalty the dark colour only emphasized her glowing skin and hair, and after this afternoon, the last thing she wanted was drawing any attention to her hair. She paused after quickly dressing to give herself a final check in the mirror. It would have to do.

Coming into the dining room she saw that not only was Thranduil present, but that Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, and Eowyn had also decided to make an appearance. _Great, just great, more people._

"Elentinu," Thranduil greeted her, "it has been some time. The last I saw of you was before the Council of Elrond when you came to insist that I send a messenger. You were quite emphatic."

Estel and Legolas both stared. "She argued with _you_?!" they exclaimed in unison. To the best of their knowledge, no one had ever argued with the King of Mirkwood. Most people backed off. That reminded Legolas. "She said the first time you saw her, she was soaking wet. When I asked her what she meant she said I might want to ask you."

Thranduil and Gweniel exchanged amused looks. "Shall I begin?" Gweniel asked.

"By all means."

"Well," Gweniel began "it was one of my first trips as Elrond's ambassador. I had heard all the stories of the King of Mirkwood's famous temper and I was more than a little apprehensive. To make a very long story short, on my way through Mirkwood's, sorry I know it's The Greenwood now but then, suffice it to say I was attacked by spiders, lost my horse to them so I could get away, had to hide in muddy streambeds so as not to be ambushed again, and had to walk the rest of the way. When I finally reached Thranduil's hall, I was told that as I came later than expected the King no longer wished to speak with me. And then..." Gweniel looked at Thranduil.

Thranduil took up the tale. "One of the guards came dashing into my study with the news that Lord Elrond's envoy had just pinned another guard to the wall with knives driven though his clothing, and was demanding to see me now. So I went to confront this ambassador ready to give him a piece of my mind. I entered the courtyard to see a very muddy dripping elleth who proceeded to give me a piece of _her_ mind. She told me in no uncertain terms that she was less than impressed by my standards of hospitality, and the least I could do was hear her out. Which I did. In the courtyard. And by the time she was finished I had agreed to every one of her requests."

Gweniel took up the story again. "I admit it was not the diplomatic way to behave in any way, shape, or form, but at that point I was also furious. I was soaked, covered in mud, it was even in my hair, exhausted, and I had just been told that I was unwanted. So I lost my temper a bit. And then before I had a chance to settle down another messenger came running into the courtyard asking if anyone was a midwife. "

Thranduil took up the narrative again. "And the next thing I knew she had offered her services, and dashed off, after one of the fastest changes of clothing I had ever seen. She did not even bother to wash her hair; she only tied a scarf around her head. Elentinu, would you like to continue?"

Gweniel laughed. "Well I ran off, leaving a very surprised string of elves in my wake. What no one had bothered to tell me was that the elleth was expecting twins. So I went into her room and had the shock of my life. She was not pregnant with twins. Two babies yes, but not twins, something I had only seen once with Men and never even heard of with Elves. Her babies were conceived four months apart which meant that her second baby was going to be premature, which was potentially problematic. At that point I said a very quick prayer, washed my hands with teaberry soap and assessed what I had. It was not as though I really had much to do. She had an easy birth and both babies were fine, even if one was tiny. "

"And I was finally able to avail myself to your father's hospitality, which he extended to me after all; and wash up, which was quite an experience. It was the first and last time I spent an hour just brushing mud from my hair, and I needed two baths before I felt completely clean."

Legolas had been looking at her steadily while she told her tale. It was strange to think of her hair being so coated with mud that she had to spend an hour brushing it out. He remembered that afternoon when her hair had glowed though the rain, like a halo around her head, and the feeling of the silky strands sliding though his fingers. He had been slightly disappointed tonight when he saw that she had bound her hair back in a weave of elaborate braids. "That really happened?" he asked his father.

Gweniel answered for him. "Yes it did. The unfortunate side effect was that whenever Elrond needed an envoy to Mirkwood I was always picked. Although from then on I behaved more decorously and I looked presentable."

"I am sure you did." Legolas looked her in the eyes as he said this, holding her gaze for a moment, before she looked away, a slight blush staining her pale skin.

Gweniel caught Arwen's interested look. She looked like she was about to comment, but Gweniel beat her to it. _Arwen you had better not. _

_Why not?_

_Because I asked you. And because I was a very inattentive chaperone while you and Estel where in Lorien the first time._

_You were watching us?! _Arwen sounded outraged.

_Correction, I was _supposed_ to be keeping an eye and ear on you. I kept my distance though, so keep yours. Discuss it with Estel if you must, he is your husband, but do not bring my personal life up in any public forum._

_Fine._

Absorbed as they were in their private conversation, they failed to notice that all discussion had died down and that they were now the center of attention. "Queen Arwen," Faramir asked again "would you honor us with your singing."

Arwen turned and smiled. "I think I will give the honor to Gweniel. You have never heard her and she does live here now." If looks could kill, Arwen would have dead ten times over by now from Gweniel's icy stare. "Gweniel, would you?"

"If you will allow to retrieve my harp, Your Majesty." Arwen was not deceived by the compliancy in her tone. In her head she heard Gweniel's exasperated voice as she left the room. _I think you are a little old to do this. Behave yourself._

Entering the room, harp in hand she ran through her options. The problem was that there about six different languages to choose from. Her eyes settled on Eowyn and Faramir sitting together and she smiled. _Why not? _"This is for our guests." Gweniel said without specifying which ones as she sat down and began to play. It was a softly sung song with a simple melody that only added to its beauty. It was also understood by only one member of the gathering. Instead of responding to everyone's puzzled looks she spoke directly to Faramir. "You should learn this for your wife, Faramir. It's an old song in Rohan." And she sang it again, in the Westron this time so everyone could understand.

_Lips ripe as the berries in June_

_Red the rose, red the rose_

_Skin pale as the light of the moon_

_Gently as she goes_

_Eyes blue as the sea and the sky_

_Water flows, water flows_

_Heart burning like fire in the night _

_Gently as she goes_

"It's not a song about one woman, or if it was, no one remembers who she was. It's usually sung by men about their sweethearts." Gweniel explained. "I can write out the words if you want."

"Thank you."

"I'll go write it out now," and then realizing how rude it would be to disappear added "Eowyn you can come with me and make sure I have a correct translation." _Arwen you are not coming, _she added firmly before Arwen could extend the offer.

In Gweniel's small room, Eowyn looked around as she finished writing a translation. Never one to dance around the point, she asked, "Why did you run away?'

"I was that obvious?" at Eowyn's nod, she grimaced.

"Well," Eowyn amended. "I think Arwen and I were the only ones who really noticed. Why did you run away?"

Gweniel picked up a vial."You see this?" she asked rhetorically. "This is the essential oil from a plant called Sauron's Own. As the name implies it is a fatal poison. However taken in the correct dose, and it varies in minute amounts from person to another, healers can use it to induce a sleep deep enough that their patient feels no pain among other uses. It is rarely used though, because the tiniest amount wrong can kill someone. And I trust myself completely with this and with every other tool I have at my disposal."

"So?"

"I will be completely honest with you. Did you know why Aragorn wanted me here?" At Eowyn's nod she continued. "I was prepared for that. I knew I would need a degree of emotional involvement, but I did not expect…"Her voice trailed off.

"You did not expect Legolas to look at you all the time. Much less that he would make you uncomfortable or that you would like his attention." Gweniel nodded. "Well, there nothing wrong with that." Eowyn continued. "When I was in the Houses of Healing, the last thing on my mind was falling in love with Faramir, I thought I loved Aragorn in fact, but I did fall in love with Faramir and I am very happily married. Why are you so afraid?"

"Why would he be interested in me? I have nothing to offer, and I'm too strange."

"You are evading the question again. Why are you so afraid?"

Gweniel fidgeted with the vial for a moment before finally answering, "Because if you're wrong, I'll have opened myself to hurt. And I can take on Sauron but not my own feelings."

"You know what?" Eowyn said after a long silence. "Why don't you stay here and I'll make up an excuse for you. That way you don't have to brave everyone's stares."

"Thank you," Gweniel said gratefully. "Wait I forgot," she put down the vial and picked up a package of leaves which she handed to Eowyn. "Raspberry leaf," she explained "I give it to many women who are pregnant. You brew a leaf or two into a tea. It acts as a general tonic."

Gweniel waited until enough time had passed that she was sure she would be left before changing into a plainer dress and loosing most of her braids. She frowned as she heard footsteps outside her chambers. _Enough_ she thought as she crossed the room and yanked the door open to find the King of Gondor standing in her doorway. She sighed before nodding her head into the room.

"To what to I owe the honor, Estel?" she began acerbically, noticing that he seemed slightly uncomfortable. "Out with it."

"I came to inform you that I plan to retake Minas Morgul this spring. I know it will take years for the effects of the Nazgul to fully fade, but I will begin the process and rename it Minas Ithil as it should be."

"Why come to me? For medical supplies? I am happy to offer my services, but why tell me in secret? What are you hiding? The truth now."

"I believe the best way to do this is to have a large force of Elves along with the regular troops from Gondor and Rohan. Thranduil has agreed to send a contingent of his warriors along with those who moved from Lorien to The Greenwood. Elladan and Elrohir will come from Rivendell."

"And?" she prompted. There was more coming.

"I intend to take Legolas and his warriors from Ithilien. I have not asked him yet but I feel confident that he will agree to lead a force of his warriors."

"You what!"

"Intend to ask Legolas to lead an Elven force to retake Minas Morgul." Aragorn said with trepidation.

"You asked me to come because of Legolas's odd behavior, which I told you the cause of. Now, now you want to put him back in the same situation. You want to throw him into a battlefield again. Have you lost your senses?"

"Legolas has been to Mordor before..."

"And look what happened..."

"He will be an invaluable help, and frankly I think our best chance of success will be if he is present. Besides it cannot be all that bad. "

"It can be all that bad." was the harsh rejoinder. "It will probably kill him."

Aragorn frowned; for she had spoken not only as a healer concerned for her charge, but as a woman who cared deeply for someone.

"I will not stop you." Gweniel said resignedly. "You are King after all. I will not tell Legolas what you plan to do; I will leave that to you. I will however, insist on one thing. Wait until the cattails sprout enough leaves that you can harvest them. The ashes of the burnt leaves can stop bleeding, and have some infection fighting properties. You should also wait until you have a good supply of honey. I use it to treat all manner of wounds and burns especially when there is a shortage of clean water. You should also train a portion of your soldier in at least the rudiments of on- the- field care."

"And Estel," she added quietly but with enough force that he turned in the doorway, "if Legolas dies because of this I will _never_ forgive you. Remember that."

The minute Aragorn left Gweniel fled outside. She hated stone walls, the feeling of being enclosed. Wandering outside with no destination, she found herself running into Legolas again. _This is becoming a habit_, she thought wryly. What she could not decide was if she wanted their meetings to continue.

"I am sorry for leaving earlier," she apologized. "I confess I dislike being the center of attention."

"Why though?" Legolas asked in surprise. "You have a beautiful voice, more beautiful than any I have ever heard."

"Thank you. I guess I'm just shy. I'm not used to so many people. What are you looking at?"

"This," he pointed, "look at the hollow in the middle of that rock. It has made a prefect pool the rainwater."

Gweniel felt a familiar pull as she looked at the water. A naturally formed pool of water that would evaporate within days. It called to her 'come and see, come and see,' Looking at the water had been a mistake.

"Come and look at it." With a start she realized that it was Legolas speaking not the water calling. She took a deep breath; surely she could at least walk over.

"It is amazing," she said looking several inches to the side. If she looked into the water…better not to think about that.

A drop of water falling off a tree startled her as it hit her face. Reflexively she turned her head. And looked directly into the water's depth. 'Come and see.' The pull was uncontrollable now. Unconscious of anything else she walked forward until she stood just before the pool. _It would be easier to kneel, then I won't have to bend so far over,_ she thought hazily. Her last conscious thought as she knelt and put her hands on either side of the pool was the admonition she knew so well; '_Do not touch the water'._

Legolas looked on in some curiosity. One minute he had been having a conversation with Gweniel and the next she was kneeling by a pool of water; staring into it as though she saw something there. Wondering what could possibly be so interesting, he walked over to see for himself. As he looked over her shoulder his leg brushed her arm, jerking it forward.

To everyone else it was a pool of water, with nothing to see save one's own reflection. The minute she had registered her reflection, it had disappeared leaving a vision of an unfamiliar terrain. Oblivious to the world, she jerked as she felt something brush her arm. Something cool and wet touched the tip of one finger. With a gasp of horror, she realized that her finger was now touching the water. The images she saw sped up and worse, she was in them. She felt every wound on every soldier she saw. She felt their grief and horror. They mourned for someone, but she was so many different people that she could not grasp their thoughts. _Stop,_ she panicked._ Enough, I don't want to see anymore._ But she couldn't stop. That was the problem. She needed to move away from the water but she could not move if her life depended on it. She could not even close her eyes. Then the images stopped and she saw only black.

Legolas stared at the elleth in of him. She had gasped when he brushed against her and then stiffened. After a moment she went rigid, her fast shallow breathing the only thing that moved her body. After a few minutes he decided that whatever it was that ailed her would not be improved by her kneeling on the wet ground. In one movement he reached down and lifted her from the ground. The moment that he lifted her she shuddered and went limp in his arms. For one heart-stopping moment he thought she was dead until he noticed her breathing. Now he was only left with the problem of an unconscious elleth for whom he could not even ask a healer for help because said elleth was the only healer available. After considering his options for a moment he came to the single logical solution. There were chambers he has apportioned for guests. He could simply lay her down in one of them and, as he had no desire to return to his nightmare ridden sleep, he could stay and keep an eye on her. The only way to move her was to carry her, and the closer she was to his own body the easier it would. After settling her against his chest she moved and he wondered if he had frightened her again. But she had only nestled closer to him; for some in inexplicable reason he felt warmed by her act. It was as though she had decided that he was not someone to be afraid of, rather someone she would trust.

Gweniel opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room and the sight of Legolas peering at her. And just when had she started thinking of him by his first name? "This is not my room," she said calmly. "And you are staring at me."

"I thought you were dead for a minute. Of course I am staring at you. In case you were wondering this is a guest chamber. You can go back to your own chamber now that you are awake."

The thought of getting up and walking made her dizzy. Just turning her head had exhausted her.

"Is something wrong?"

"I, I'm not sure I can walk yet."

"Well," Legolas seemed hesitant, "I could carry you." _Say yes._

'_Why are you so afraid?'_ Eowyn's voice said in her mind. _Because I think there's a very strong possibility that I love him, and the one thing that would break me is to open myself to love only to find it unrequited._ "All right."

Legolas could not believe his good fortune when she agreed. The minute he lifted her up he knew this was no ploy for attention. She was lighter than any full grown elf had any business being, and the nimbus of light that always surrounded her was gone. It was as though whatever it had been in the water had taken away part of her. Still, he wondered if she would have agreed to being carried by anyone, or if she wanted to be carried by_ him_. He shook off the thought as he neared her chamber. She was an aranel in her own right and of an aranel of the Eldar no less, while he was the youngest son of a king of Wood-elves, not to mention…

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked as he settled in her bed,

"Well," she said gathering all her courage. "Would you sing to me?"

"_Would you sing to me_?' Legolas hesitated. He had not been able to sing since his nightmares had begun. Still, she had asked him to sing, and she seemed to want_ him_ to sing to her. "Very well, but I do not sing nearly as well as you do."

"It does not matter to me. I just want of hear you sing."

'_I just want to hear you sing._' "As you wish."

_The poignancy of things_

_A purple flower_

_The blossoms of spring_

_And the light snow of winter_

_How they fall_

_The beauty of nature_

_A green leaf and _

_Autumn colours_

_The voice of the wind_

_The song of birds_

_A sad sea _

_A joyful sea_

_Mountains_

_Pebbles_

_A wild iris_

Legolas looked over to see how his song had been received. She was sleeping again, but she had regained some of her lost glow, and it seemed to grow stronger with each passing minute. He wondered how much she would remember in the morning. It was strange, he mused. He had only known her for a month, and knew next to nothing about her, but he would happily spend his the rest of eternity finding out more about her. He laughed in self mockery at the direction of his thoughts. She was of the Eldar and could have her pick of elves. There was no reason for her to even consider him, especially damaged as he was. What elleth would bind herself to an elf who could barely hear music, sing, and who could not sleep for nightmares? _In my dreams_.

Gweniel woke up the next morning to the sunrise. She took a minute to think back over the previous night. She remembered everything until her finger had brushed the water. Then her visions, which she tried not to dwell on. Then waking up in a guest chamber with Legolas watching her and carrying her to her chamber, and the sound of his voice as he sang her to sleep. Had she really asked him to sing, and what else had she said? Well there was only one way to find out.

Legolas turned at the sound of music. It was Gweniel of course; no one else had a voice like that. And she was the only elf he knew who sang music without any words. He was relieved to notice that she was glowing as brightly as ever including her hair. He shook himself; he had to stop thinking of her like that.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation about last night." she began sitting down next to him. "When you touched my arm, you accidently pushed one of my fingers into the water and it was overwhelming. So, I want to apologize to you for last night. And did I really ask you to sing to me?"

"You did not trouble me, I was just worried. You looked awful. And you did ask me to sing." She had her face in hands."Please it was no difficulty. I have not been able to sleep very much recently anyway." To his relief she seemed not to have heard the last bit.

Gweniel finally looked up. "I am so sorry. I had no right to ask you. You must think, well to perfectly honest I have no idea what you made of my request. I usually do not behave like that."

_I wish you would more often._ Legolas thought._ It seems to be the only way that you let yourself feel, or not worry about what other people think of you. It also seems to be the only way I can get to know you. You keep yourself under lock and key the rest of the time. What are you afraid of?_ "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. It is the least I can do."

"Are you sorry you asked me to sing?"

"Yes, I mean I should not have asked you, but I cannot say I am sorry to have heard you sing. I enjoyed it very much. Which reminds me," she undid the tiny braids holding her hair back. "I asked you to sing for me last night. I think it is only fair that you should be able to touch my hair. I see how you always look at it. Go ahead."

Hesitantly Legolas reach out a hand and touched the ends of hair. Holding the strands between his fingers, he felt as though he was holding threads of light. "How come your hair glows like this?" he asked.

"Well," Gweniel began, wondering just how much she should relate. "Arwen was dying due to Sauron's power and I used an unorthodox method to bring her back. The added light seems to be a side effect. I know it looks a little strange."

"Looking different is not so bad."

"That is what nearly every elf in Imladris told me. I was quite a rarity with my light hair. As you know, it is rare among the Eldar. And the fact that I wore it mostly unbound did not help matters."

"I see." Legolas could just imagine her. A beautiful elleth with gold hair let loose among the Noldor. She must have been every the desire of every elf. He wondered why she had never married. Unless…

"Did your family sail?" he asked, hoping she would not say her husband had.

She seemed to hear the unspoken question. "All of my family over a millennium ago. But I never married so I was alone for most of the time. That is why I enjoyed Imladris so much. It was like having my siblings back."

"You know," Gweniel said after a pause. "We don't only have to see each other in the middle of the night. If you have no objections to being seen with an utterly peculiar seer we can talk during the day." _Say yes_

"One condition," Legolas said. "We can still watch the stars at night sometimes." _And I'll have a few nights free from nightmares, but I would do it anyway._

"Agreed. Just let go of my hair."

Two months later.

Gweniel paced up and down Eowyn's bedchamber. Supposedly she was there to see Eowyn's new baby. In reality she was there for the same reason she had been visiting for the same reason she had been since Eowyn had spoken with her in her workroom. Gweniel was a novice at love and surprisingly had found Eowyn easier to talk to than Arwen. Maybe it was because they had both put their responsibilities before their hearts, but Gweniel loved having another woman to confide in. It was the main reason she had wanted a sister and had regretted that she had no female friends.

"You are going to wear a hole in the floor," Eowyn said with some amusement. "What is the problem now? By all accounts Aragorn's campaign has been a success, with a very low death toll."

"Something is wrong with Legolas." Gweniel said tersely. "I knew this was a mistake. I knew something was wrong from the beginning and it has only gotten worse. And now he is really in danger. I just know."

Just then they heard a commotion outside. "They're back." a guard shouted. "And they have…" Gweniel flew out the door.

A/N Forgot to mention: Gently as she goes is from the 2007 Beowulf (love or hate the movie, Beowulf is considered THE Old English classic and Rohiric is based on Old English, and I could so see it as being a folk song.) The song Legolas sings is Wild Violet by Enya. (The real lyrics are Japanese but I thought that was stretching things way too much.) Please, pretty please leave a review. Virtual cherry on top.


	7. Anything But

Anything But

Gweniel flew into the courtyard, barely aware of how she had gotten there. What she saw confirmed her worst fears. Legolas was slumped against Elrohir, but worse, the light that was his soul was flickering like a dying flame. He was fading before her eyes.

"Brief me," she commanded, mounting pillion behind Elladan. They had been with her often enough to know what she expected. Clear, concise reports, start of symptoms, development and probable causes. By the time they had reached the elvish settlement and Legolas's home, she had fully integrated the information, and not only had she made her diagnoses, she knew the only cure possible. Stealthily she began to work her hair loose. By the time the twins had carried Legolas into a bed in her infirmary it was completely unbound. For the first time since she had healed Arwen years ago she had let some of light she carried within her free, and her hair shone with powerful glow. She noticed a few glances in her direction and laughed grimly to herself. There would be a lot more to stare at by the time she was finished.

Once again she was filled with the calm sense of purpose that had filled her when she entered Arwen's death chamber. She would bring Legolas back to life even though it would be infinitely more difficult. Unlike Arwen, Legolas had had enough of Arda and wanted to leave more than anything. He had seen too much pain.

She listened with half an ear as Estel, _how dare he come here,_ describe the battle. More than anything else, well aside from saving Legolas, she wanted to scream, _I told you this would happen._ Unfortunately for her, fury had no place in a healing trance, so she let it go.

Reaching behind her neck she loosened the laces at her back; allowing her dress to slide down her body and pool around her feet, leaving her clad in only a thin silken shift. At the soft whisper of fabric, Aragorn and everyone else stopped what they were staying to stare at her.

As she half expected Aragorn was the first to recover his voice. "What do you think you are doing!" he practically yelled.

Gweniel sighed as though the answer was obvious. "He's cold. He needs warmth. I can give him that and it is easier with fewer layers in between us." _And you should know that young man, or I doubt your reputation as great healer._She responded asshe slipped in to the bed beside Legolas, ignoring the appalled looks being sent in her direction. Elladan took charge.

"Can I get you anything?" He and Elrohir were used to her somewhat unusual ways. The only thing that was making him uneasy was that the light she was giving off was growing steadily brighter.

"Another blanket over both of us would be nice, and if you make certain I am not disturbed that would be amazing."

Elladan nodded and covered them both with another blanket, then he and Elrohir started shepherding everyone else out of the room.

"She's going to _sleep_ with him?" someone hissed in shocked outrage.

Elladan and Elrohir traded looks before Elrohir finally answered. "No," he said firmly. "She, well I have no idea how what she does works but it does. She is not really awake, but she is more awake than awake. Her eyes are closed but she sees things no one else can. She never talks but you can always understand her. And sometimes I think that she is speaking in a language with no words," he finished lamely. It sounded bizarre and yet he felt that this was as close to normalcy that it could sound. Because there was no real way to explain what she could do.

Once everyone had been escorted out of the room Gweniel shifted until she lay in what appeared to be an embrace with Legolas; her right arm over his body, her left over his heart, their faces almost touching. She concentrated. She could feel Legolas's heartbeat with her left hand and on her neck where she had rested it on his. She started with that, focusing on her own heart until the rhythms matched. Then she took a deep breath and slipped into his mind.

_Legolas crouched in the ruins of Minas Morgul. Aragorn's mission has been successful, they had rid the place of the Nazgul's taint. Then why did he still stand here, and where was everyone else? And the Nazgul who should have been dead or vanquished and definitely not exist anymore were flying over and around; coming closer with every circuit. And with every circle it grew darker and darker. 'This is how the world end's, he thought watching almost distantly as he gave up his dream of seeing the sea, ' Alone in the dark.' And when a speck of light caught his eye he thought it was simply a cruel trick of the dark and turned away._

In another world, Gweniel felt her heart, no not hers, nearly stop. Her only hope was to make him look back at the light. A bird, she needed a bird to fly against the Nazgul's mounts. Eagles, no they were predators and fierce like the cold winds. Something the same size but one that only attacked when threatened. Of course.

_The speck of light he saw kept being right in front of him no matter which way he turned, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Which was impossible of course. Everything here was slave to the Nazgul. Still this light moved almost …like a bird? Curiosity got the better of his desire for death and he strained to get a closer look. It _was_ a bird. A swan, in fact, with long powerful wings. Wings, that somehow seemed to cause the Nazgul to move with every downward beat. To his own surprise he smiled. The swan seemed to be encouraged by this and circled lower, pausing directly in front of him. Hesitatingly he reached out a hand to touch the luminous feathers. It seemed to be what the swan was waiting for as it extended its neck to touch his hand._

_The moment his finger's touched the swan's feather's Minas Morgul disappeared. Instead the two of them were left in a no one's land. There was no up or down ,light or darkness. He and the swan, if that's what it really was because he was starting to have some doubts, were the only pieces of reality present. At that thought, the swan vanished._

"_This is a place of choices," a soft voice told him. if he looked hard he could almost see the owner through the walls of mist that surrounded him. The voice seemed familiar. "You can choose," it no _she_ said. "You can fade from here or you can come back to this earth and heal. Only you can make this choice. Choose wisely"_

Back in another world stood and walked over to the window. And no one watching her could tell whether she wept from pain or from joy.


	8. Water

It had been two days since Gweniel had come out of her healing trance with Legolas's decision to continue to live. Oddly enough, she found that she was not satisfied. Once she had thought that healing others was its own reward, but now she could not help but feel something was missing. It was strange, she mused. Every other time she had healed including Arwen, which was the second most difficult task she had ever attempted, she had felt…fulfilled. A feeling that was missing in this case. Or, not exactly missing. She still felt the satisfaction of a job done, but now, now, she wanted something more. She shook herself and continued on her way. She had promised Eowyn a visit and it would be a relief to be somewhere where she would not be stared at. It had gotten to the point where she had not even tried to minimize her extra light. She would be stared at, or rather; everyone would stare then drop their eyes to the ground and mumble something unintelligible, regardless.

Three hours later after a refreshingly ordinary conversation on the differences in Rhohiric and Elvish music, she was almost at her chambers when a soft clearing of a throat caught her attention. Gweniel turned around with an inaudible sigh; she almost had the last few notes of a new melody arranged in her head and almost jumped out of her skin when she focused on who wanted to speak with her.

"Legolas," she finally said faintly. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to thank you. I do not know anyone else who could have done that."

There was something wrong here. "There is no need for pretense, "she responded a little more heatedly than she had intended. "I was inside your mind. I am not so sure I did you any favors."

Legolas looked at her strangely. "If that is so," he said slowly. "Why did you act as you did? It was you; the swan, the voice, the face I could not make out, was it not? If you really thought that way you would not have gone to such lengths." Gweniel looked at his shoulder.

"I spoke to Elladan and Elrohir," he continued. "I know what you did. I know you used an enormous amount of energy to do what many considered a hopeless task. Why did you do it, if not for me?"

Gweniel took a deep breath and looked Legolas in the eyes before she replied. "I did it because I could not have you fade. Not like that. Not with such anguish in your soul. And it was not by my choice that you are here. It is by your own. Why did you choose this?"

For a moment, she thought he would not answer; that she had pressed too far, too fast. But he did. "I did it," he said, so quietly she needed to strain her Elvish hearing, "because you asked."

_No, I did not,_ was her immediate thought but she reconsidered. They had shared a consciousness. She had been thinking, _hoping_, that thought. He could have picked it up rather easily. "Oh."

"I realize that this is extremely out of the ordinary," he was continuing. "But I do not think that any part of this situation is ordinary. I know people are already talking about you and it mostly my fault."

"It is no one's fault…"

"I would offer you a marriage with me," Legolas went on disregarding her interruption and her soft gasp. "Allow me to repair some of the damage to your reputation."

And really, when it was put like that, "I would be honored."

Gweniel waited two weeks. Her whole marriage was _wrong._ They might just as well been strangers sharing the same house for all the time they spent together. Oh, she knew why Legolas kept his distance but this was getting to the point of insanity. As always, she waited for the next clear night to ask him to accompany her outside.

She took him down to the pool she had found. "Legolas," she said very seriously looking at him directly eye to eye," You need to share everything with me. It makes no difference to me how trivial or insignificant it may seem to you." Before he had a chance to voice his objections, she added with deliberate emphasis, "This will not change my feelings for you. However, if I am to help you I must know. I am your wife. There should not be secrets between us. Let me help you." She waited the longest moment in all existence before he opened his mind to hers.

The night passed in a daze of surreality. There was no time, no direction, no gravity. Nothing but the water they floated in and the thoughts that ebbed and flowed between their joined minds.

When both of them finally came to the awareness that time had passed it was almost dawn. Once again, they had stayed out all night.

Gweniel turned to Legolas whose face looked relaxed for the first time since she had seen him. "Don we have to sneak back inside now?" she asked wishing that the night had never ended. It was the first time she had felt fully married.

"No"

That could not be right. "But"

"We are what Men call newlyweds," Legolas continued with a hint of a smile on his face. "If we want to stay out all night that is no one else's business. Unless," and he turned to her with a mischievous look in his eyes, "you want to go back in."

Gweniel laughed and shook her head.


	9. All Over Again

One of Gweniel's favorite expressions was one a Man had told her. As she recalled, the saying went "it never rains it only pours" which somehow did not refer to the weather, but rather to how eventful periods of time could be. She felt this summed up her situation exactly. For several years, she had wandered around Middle-Earth saying farewell to her home and not a single interesting situation came her way. Then she had moved to Ithilien and things simply had not stopped happening. Now only one month after her marriage she was hurrying along to Eowyn and Faramir's with Legolas at her side. As they came closer to Faramir's dwelling her steps slowed unconsciously. She had not realized how much she dreaded this visit. At her side, Legolas stopped her.

"Gweniel,"

It took a moment for the sound of her name to penetrate her thoughts. "Yes?"

"You look very serious, almost somber. What is wrong?"

Her first reaction was to deny that there was anything wrong, but she stopped herself. It would not be right to lie. She could not ask that Legolas share everything with her and that she not share her own secrets with him. It was just difficult especially to someone who had very little idea how soul healing worked. It would also mean dealing with the unalterable fact that this would reveal the depths of her own feelings for him, something neither of them had discussed.

"Gweniel?"

"Wait and you will see," she said as they walked the last few steps.

They entered to find a very shaken looking Eowyn standing by herself. Immediately both of their Elvish senses went into high gear, as they looked her over. They both relaxed slightly, no marks. It was nothing physical then. Legolas looked at Gweniel wondering what she would do. This was obviously something personal and _he_ had no idea how to go about things. Gweniel broke the silence.

"Can we sit down somewhere?" she said as though this was any other visit and she simply wanted to sit down.

After a pause, Eowyn remembered her manners and led them both into a small sitting room where they all sat down. After at least five minutes, Gweniel finally said something.

"You look upset. Can I help with anything?"

Apparently being completely direct was the way to go because Eowyn started talking like she had bottled up the words before and now she just spilled them out.

"I told him, I told him we were going to have another child and he, he just looked at me as if I had told him the world was coming to an end. It was as if every nightmare he ever had was coming to life before his eyes. It was almost as if I told him someone was dying or dead, or, or"

"Eowyn. Eowyn calm down. Look at me. ," Gweniel said firmly before full-scale hysteria could set in. "Take a deep breath. Another. So Faramir was fine until you said you were going to have another child?" Eowyn nodded. "Did this happen with your first child?"

Eowyn considered then replied. "No. He was nervous but nothing like this at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"So," Gweniel said, thinking aloud. "At his first child's birth he is simply nervous like most first time fathers. With his second child however, he is truly frightened. So we can safely say Oh no" she trailed off.

"Why? What is wrong," Eowyn said quickly.

"Faramir was the second born. What do you know about him and his father?"

"Well I know all about that incident where his father almost burnt him alive, but besides for that he does not talk about his father much."

Gweniel frowned thoughtfully for a few minutes then spoke. "Eowyn, with your permission I would like some time with Faramir alone."

"Legolas," she added so quietly only his Elf hearing picked it up, "stay with Eowyn and calm her down. Talk about ordinary things, your homes, horses, music whatever she wants. I will talk to you after." She turned back to Eowyn. "Take me to Faramir."

Gweniel entered the dark room to find Faramir sitting alone in a corner.

"Faramir," her voice low and intent, "talk to me."

"My father never wanted me you know," he said in a dead voice. "He loved Boromir but never me."

"I see." No, she did not in fact, but she saw no point in saying that. It was beyond her to imagine a parent not loving a child, but she had seen many strange things in her life.

"Faramir I must ask you something. I would like to look into your mind." Seeing his look of horror, she added quickly. "I would not suggest this if I did not think it was the best way to do this. It can be easier than to speak aloud. Do I have your permission?"

After a long pause, Faramir nodded his assent and closed his eyes.

Gweniel took a moment to gather her thoughts then slowly slipped into his mind, a cool steady light. What she saw appalled her beyond words. Ulmo of the Sea, had Denethor actually said _that? _That he would rather have Faramir die than Boromir? To his face? What had been wrong with the man?

_Listen to me Faramir. Your father was wrong. He was wrong with what he did and said. I do not care what his reasons were, but however valid, they do not excuse his behavior. You are every bit as much of a person as Boromir was. He loved you. He saw you for who you were. And before you say it was because he was your brother remember that Aragorn designated you as Steward and he is an astute judge of Men._

_You are not your father Faramir and you will not be like him. You know better and you would never do that._ She waited until she heard him take a deep breath._ I am going to bring Eowyn in now._

Walking out of the room, she felt Faramir's relief, but it did nothing to help her. She wanted to go home, and sort out all her feelings. With an uncomfortable jolt, she remembered her promise to Legolas. She would never be able to hide her feelings with her emotions this raw.

Barely noticing what she was doing she sent Eowyn into Faramir and left with Legolas. Walking out of their dwelling, she saw Aragorn walking in. _Absolutely not._

"You cannot go in now." She informed Aragorn tiredly. "Whatever it is it can wait."

"I did not come to see Faramir," he said defensively."I came to talk to you."

"Now?"

"Yes. I should have listened to you when you warned me about taking Legolas to Minas Morgul, but I had to at the time."

"Oh?"

"I needed every one who could possibly come. Legolas was…"

"No." Gweniel interrupted heatedly. "You may have needed him but no one forced you to take him."

"Some people say that great kings cannot also be great men," she continued, her eyes burning through Aragorn, "I hope you prove them wrong." And she turned and walked away, leaving a startled Legolas to catch up with her and a King of Men deep in thought behind her.

"You said we could talk," Legolas reminded her as they walked. "What happened? You look even worse now than you did before."

"It is just," Gweniel started "oh every time I do something like this I feel everything that the other person feels. It is the price I pay for my gift."

Legolas stopped dead in his tracks. "So when you healed me… you felt everything I was feeling? All the pain?"

Gweniel nodded. "Then why do it?" Legolas could not contain himself anymore. The thought of Gweniel enduring everything he had endured was like a deathblow to him. "You knew what would happen, and you did it anyway? Were you even sure it would work."

Gweniel shook her head.

"Then why did you do it? _Why?_"

Gweniel took a deep breath. Here it was the crux of the matter. "Because I love you and I could not live my life without you. Without knowing I had tried everything in my power to save you. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat as many times as I needed to."

Legolas looked at her in disbelief. Never in his wildest dreams had he hoped that she would return his feelings. Wordlessly he pulled her into an embrace. And in that embrace they were both made whole.


	10. Time's Passage

"I asked Gweniel once. Why it was that Elves rarely mingled with Men. She was silent for a moment and finally sighed and said to imagine a flowing river, and you were just to sit on its banks watching the water flow by, when suddenly you saw a beautiful flower and you wanted it to stay forever in the water. However, it did not; it was swept out of your sight almost as soon as you had caught sight of it. It was the same with Men; almost as soon as they met them, they were gone.

I did not understand, not then. It took watching her and Legolas staying eternally young while their friends grew old and died around them to understand. First, it was Eomer and Eowyn, then Faramir and the hobbits. With each death, I watched the sorrow grow in their eyes.

Almost all their kind left but they stayed. They seemed to be waiting for a prearranged signal. I wished them well but I could not imagine a life without them; their music, their grave beauty and their rare laughter."

~ From the writings of Elwing, daughter of Aragorn and Arwen


	11. An Understanding

Gweniel slowly rode up the streets of Minas Arnor. After dropping her horse off at the stable she sent a message to the King that he had a visitor while she changed out of her riding clothes into more fitting attire.

As she expected it was Aragorn's youngest daughter, Elwing, who came to see her first. The two of them, the Elf and the child of Aragorn's age, had always been especially close. Secretly or not so secretly, Gweniel looked at Elwing as the daughter she did not have.

"Gweniel!" Elwing exclaimed. "I missed you. What brings you here? You rarely come into the city."

"So I do not little one, "Gweniel said with a smile. "However your father had been avoiding me of late and we have several things to discuss."

"I know," Elwing replied more seriously. "He has changed somehow within this past month. He has grown more pensive as the summer has passed and has spent much time alone or with Eldarion." Looking at Gweniel's face, she added. "And that is why you have come, no?"

"Yes," Gweniel answered after a long pause, "that is why I came."

Seeing Aragorn out of the corner of her eye, she forced a smile and spoke more quietly.

"Leave to speak with your father Elwing. I promise to come back when all this is over."

Elwing looked at her and said, "I will hold you to that promise, "and left her to speak with Aragorn.

As she came closer to Aragorn, she was struck anew at the difference between Elves and Men. While the past years had left her unchanged outwardly, age lay heavy on Aragorn, in his hair and face.

"Estel. I would speak with you in private."

Aragorn looked startled for a moment before taking her to the lookout at the edge of the terrace. It was every bit as windy as she remembered it, with the wind sending her long, draped sleeves up and around her like leaves.

"What is it?"Aragorn asked when Gweniel made no remark.

"Why do you not tell me? We both know, but I would hear it from your mouth not mine."

"How do you know?" Aragorn asked in a hushed whisper. "No one could have told you."

"I Saw." Gweniel answered. "Last winter I Saw in a patch of ice your funeral. And I have been seeing the same vision in the water every time I look. You dying. It varies somewhat but you always die. And last night I saw my vision in a dream." "That was when I knew." she concluded," that you will do this sooner rather than later. Within the next week if I am not mistaken. That is why you invited Gimli here last spring. Ice never lies."

"And water does?" Aragorn managed to say through his shock. Gweniel never spoke about her foresight much so most people managed to forget she had it. That was, until she said something like this.

"No water does not lie but," she stopped short wondering how to explain it to someone who had no experience at all. "Water is fluid. Water can move from one shape to another. That is why a pool of water is used; because, theoretically speaking, it does not move. However, it still _can_. Therefore, the future is fluid to some extent. The water can move, people can make choices. With ice however; it is permanent. Ice never moves. The water or the ice acts as a reflection for the image or images. If you touch the water, you become part of the image. That is why you are never supposed to touch the water. You are pulled into the realities of the image, whereas if you do not, you only see the reflection of the image. Does that help?"She asked hopefully.

Aragorn blinked a few times. "No but please do not attempt to explain the explanation. I already feel dizzy."

"As you wish. It took a whole day to explain to Legolas so I do not expect you to understand in the space of five minutes. What made up your mind?"

"it is just time. I know it is."

"Then you are right in what you do. "

There was a space of silence for a moment than Gweniel spoke again.

"Do you remember what I said all those years ago? That great kings are rarely great men? Do you remember?"

"How could I forget it," Aragorn replied. "No rebuke ever stung me more."

"Well I think you did prove it wrong. Just now. Namarie." And she turned as was gone without another word. As usual her silence spoke for her.

Later she spoke with Legolas. "See him now or never," she said.

Legolas returned to Ithilien before moonrise.

"What will we do now?" he asked. "What is there left to do?"

"We do what Elves have always done," Gweniel answered sadly. "We wait." And they sat together the entire night.

…..No one remembered how it happened. No one could point to an exact point of time or place. All they knew was that two Elves, a man and woman stood there in the Silent Street. In the back of their minds', the thought rose that these must be the Ernil and Aranel of the Ithilien elves. Slowly the two beings who should never have known death walked to the bier of the King, and if they were heartbreaking to look at in their grief, they also bought with them a measure of peace to the people by their presence. It was fitting they thought, as the pair bowed their heads before the King's body that they should have come. If Aragorn was the last king of Men of the Elder Days then it was to his honour that two of the Eldest born should be at his funeral. And the sight of the two mithril crowns, one of tiny leaves and one of delicate snowflakes, bowed in respect before the King of Men lingered in the hearts of all present, as the wind blew their grey robes about their tall forms in the late autumn breeze.

AN: I made up the whole water, reflection, future thing. It just made sense to me. So it's NOT canon but it could be if you think about it.


	12. A Promise Kept

AN: Lyrics are from Sarah McLachlan "Sad Clown"

"Are you certain?"

Gweniel sighed; they had been over this too many times to count. While there was nothing that she wanted more than to sail with Legolas, she had a promise to keep.

"Legolas, meleth you know I cannot," she said sadly. Seeing that he was about to protest she picked up her hand in a silencing gesture.

"What if it was me?" she asked quietly enough so that Gimli who was waiting in the ship could not hear. "What if it was me instead of Arwen? What if you had died as Aragorn did and left me alone? Would you not want someone to be with me, to help me through my loneliness?"

"I would want someone with you," Legolas said just as quietly. "But why does it have to be you?"

"Who else would it be? Her brothers? They never understood the choice she made and she has not seen them in over a year. I know her better." she said sadly. "I understood her choice then, and I understand it now. Even had I not promised Elrond, it would have to be me."

After a long pause, Legolas nodded. They both made the Elven gesture of farewell, hand to heart and then reaching out to touch each other faces, their hands lingering on the others face before stepping back.

"Go now," Gweniel, said. "Go now or you never will."

And she stood and watched long after the boat had vanished down the river to the Sea, before mounting her horse and setting off at the fastest possible pace.

Just as she had done so many years before she was riding a horse named Epona. And once again she was riding to her friend who was almost like a sister's aid.

…

The Lothlorien that she walked through was not the Lothlorien of her memories. There was silence instead of music and the great forest seemed deserted. The only familiar sights were the great trees. Those at least had remained unchanged. The emptiness made the already vast forest seem larger and she felt small in the loneliness. It proved her instincts right however. This was the place to come to when you had lost all hope. This was the place to die. Arwen would be here, in the very heart of this loneliness. All she had to do was find her. A task that was easier said than done considering the amount of space she had to look in and the short time available. Unless Arwen was where she suspected she was, Gweniel was faced with an all but hopeless task. A task she had promised Elrond she would fulfill. _Undomiel,_ she thought, quickening her pace,_ please be where I think you are._

She was right; Arwen was exactly where she had thought. She was on the hill where she and Aragorn had pledged themselves to each other all those years ago.

"Undomiel."

"What brings you here?" Arwen asked. "Can I not die in peace? And why do you call me by that name? No one has for years and years."

"In the order of your questions," Gweniel replied evenly, "I did promise both your father and Estel that I would be with you in your time of need. And no, I do not think I could let you die in peace as you call it. You will die regardless; at least you will have a friend by your side. Last, well, that is your name after all. There are just the two of us here. You can be the Evening Star again. Is that not who you are, especially now in the twilight of your days?"

"If you ask me to leave," Gweniel continued, "I will go. I will leave right now and take ship. However, I do not think that you will be able to say that without lying. What is the answer?"

"How do you always know?" Arwen finally asked. "How do you always know what to do, what to say, when to say it. How?"

"Well," Gweniel said a hint of a smile on her face, "a lot of it comes from listening to other people instead of talking."

"It is today no?" she said soberly. "It was today all those years ago when you and Estel pledged your troth. And it is today you will die."

"How did you know?"

"I guessed the first, and after that the second was easy. And today is the last day of winter. I knew you would not spend another spring without Estel."

Arwen nodded. "Then you will do me one last favor?"

"What?"

"It is foolish, " Arwen said, "but I remember when you would sing people to sleep. Do that for me?"

Gweniel nodded. "Of course." Quickly she thought of a song.

A time so haunting moonlight in the mist

Lay me down beside you as long as it lasts

From the river comes a figure drifting slowly by

Trailing along the water, leaving softer than a sigh

Softer than a sigh

All the feelings they remain like a still life

A dying swan song forever lost your cries of glory.

The rain is falling down like silence in a shroud

When all the really matters is left to lose

I'm all alone

I'm alone.

All the feelings they remain like a still life

A dying swan song forever lost your cries of glory.

Walking from the shadows, a feel of sadness grows

Your heart is in your hand your knowing looks

Our time has gone

My time is gone

Swans dying song


	13. One Last Errand

AN: Lyrics from "Swan Song" Within Temptation.

Aesc is Old English. The "AE" is one letter and pronounced as the "a" in apple.

_Winter has come for me_

_Can't carry on_

_The chains to this life are strong _

_But soon they'll be gone_

_I'll spread my wings one more time_

Gweniel left Lothlorien for the last time. It was time for her to leave but she had one last farewell to make. It would probably be her hardest. With a sigh, she turned Epona east and started riding at a steady pace.

_Is this a dream? _

_All the ones I have loved_

_Calling out my name_

_The sun warms my face_

_All the days of my life _

_I see them passing me by._

Arriving at the base of Minas Anor in the first shadows of twilight, she sent her message with a guard at the gate. With a small pang she realized that not only would this be her last time at this beautiful city, but that in all possibility it would be the last time any resident would see an Elf.

"My lady?" A different guard. "I will escort you." She nodded her consent and followed.

_In my heart I know_

_I can let go _

_In the end I will find_

_Some peace inside_

_New wings are growing tonight._

"Gweniel!"

"Eldarion. I came to speak to Elwing."

The knowledge of what her being there meant weighed heavily in the silence between them. Finally Eldarion spoke.

"You are not coming to see the rest of us?"

Gweniel shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I am only here because I promised Elwing I would come say goodbye. I am sorry I cannot see all of you again. It is too much. You are like my own family. One farewell is enough."

Eldarion nodded, his eyes full also. "I understand. She is coming."

Just then Elwing came out into the night. Gweniel dismounted and held up her hand to Eldarion, "Namarie." Eldarion left leaving her alone in the courtyard with Elwing.

"Do you really have to leave?" Elwing asked knowing the answer, hoping to change it. "Can you not stay a little longer?"

Gweniel smiled sadly in reply. "No, my little one. It is time and past for me to have gone. I brought this for you." She said, pulling a sheaf of parchment out of her cloak. "It is your parents' story. I thought you should have it. Your mother also made a peculiar choice for her marriage."

Elwing blushed. "You know?"

"That you want to marry Aesc? I have known for the past few years. Eldarion will give his approval; you have no need to worry about that."

"But," Elwing whispered, "The way people talk you would think I was doing something wrong."

This earned a small laugh from Gweniel. "It does not matter that people will think that you demean yourself by marrying a man of Rohan. It makes no difference that he is first in line for the throne. You are not marrying him for his position, and as for the first. Your mother was Perendil and married a mortal man. Faramir married a woman of Rohan rather than one of his countrywomen. And I, an Aranel of the Eldar, married a prince of a woodland realm. And to the best of my knowledge none of us regretted it. What matters is what you _know_ about yourself; not what everyone else _thinks_."

"Now, "Gweniel continued. "I am leaving. I want to remember you with a smile on your face, thinking of your future. Aesc is your future, I am your past. Farewell Elf friend and may the stars shine on your road."

"And may they always light your way,"

A kiss on her brow and Gweniel was gone.

_Is this a dream? _

_All the ones I have loved _

_Calling out my name._

_The sun warms my face_

_All the days of my life _

_I see them passing me by._

Eraidor passed as though in a dream. At Rivendell she met her two companions Elladan and Elrohir. By mutual consent it was a mostly silent ride. Each was wrapped in their own thoughts, of their pasts and of the finality of their decisions.

_As I am soaring _

_I'm one with the wind _

_I am longing to see you again_

_It's been so long _

_We will be together_

_Again_

At the shores of the sea they loosed their horse. Gweniel had one final request. _Epona, you remember Elwing? I want you to find your way back to her. She will treat you kindly._

The three of them stood on the shores of the Western Sea and took their final farewell of Middle Earth the only home they had ever known. Then as one they turned and boarded the ship.

_Is this a dream? _

_All the ones I have loved _

_Calling out my name._

_The sun warms my face_

_All the days of my life_

_I see them passing me by._

"There," a voice jolted her from her thoughts. "Valinor."


	14. Epilouge

AN: Alright a little later than I wanted it but I had a hard time letting go of my characters. Thank you to everyone who read ,alerted, favorited ,or especially reviewed this story. Happy Holidays._ Aqualuna_

"Valinor." Elrohir or Elladan, she did not know who it was, said again, jolting her out of her thoughts. "Look around. You can finally see what it looks like."

"I already know," Gweniel, said absentmindedly as she looked around. She was many times more interested in finding a particular person than she was in admiring the scenery.

"There is no way you could know that." Elrohir said in disbelief. Elladan just shrugged; at this point, he took Gweniel at her word regardless of how it sounded. "Even you," Elrohir continued unfazed, "cannot look across the Sea without a palantir. And you never had one."

"Well no, but I looked in one. I was curious about my parent's birthplace. Anyway, before my parents left my mother gave me a vision of where they were going so I have known all this time in general terms at least." As always, she had forgotten her audience, but you would think that with a father who had the gift of Foresight himself, they would be a little less shocked. Or not.

"The palantir were not always used for evil." Gweniel reminded them. _When_ would they finally dock? "At one point you could use it for whatever purpose you wished."

"Now,"she continued changing the subject, "Not that your father does not know what our presence means, still, I would have that you and not I, see him first. Tell him that Arwen made use of her gift."

"Her _gift_?" both twins were appalled, but this time it was Elladan who spoke up. "You call her dying a _gift_?" he said his voice rising in disbelief.

"Yes I call it a gift." Gweniel shot back finally well and truly roused from her musings. "How would you have it? Would you have Arwen like us? Trapped in this world forever all alone? If I were she, and I had her choice; I would not have waited as long as she did. I would have given my life back the first moment I could. You?"

"I am sorry. "Elladan said more quietly. "I did not realize how difficult this last turning of the seasons was to you. I will certainly tell Ada if that is what you feel would be best."

Gweniel nodded and went back to searching the shoreline. She could see Elrond but not Legolas. Closing her eyes, she went back to her musings.

"Gweniel." Elladan this time. She heard the question before he asked.

"Go to your father. I will just wait." She answered not opening her eyes.

Elladan's eyebrows drew together in frown before he realized that her eyes were closed. "Then you will be keeping Legolas waiting."

"What!" Gweniel's eyes snapped open and she glanced frantically around, before her eyes settled on Legolas standing two feet in front of her. He really was the fastest Elf she had ever seen or heard of.

"Jump." Legolas said with a laugh.

So she jumped and promptly got soaked, not that she cared. For the first time in a year she was almost completely happy.

Legolas watched her jump into the shallow water soaking herself and smiled. Her hair, which had been almost dull was shining though the water again at the sight of him.

"I missed you, " he said quietly as soon as she was within earshot.

"Not nearly as much as I did." She answered just as quietly. "You have no idea how many times over the past few months I wished you could be next at my side."

"Well we have forever now." Legolas said. 'We have all of time to spend with each other."

Gweniel finally smiled. "Yes, " she agreed tilting her head for a kiss. "We have eternity and a day."


End file.
